1st entry
I keep saying I am a writer - but a writer who doesn’t write isn’t really a writer! Just as I keep saying I am an Artist but I am too afraid to fail, too afraid of imperfection to let the reigns lose and make a mess of something.
I have tried to hold the reins, to bridle my own life, to pretend I am in control. But more and more I just realize how impossible it is. Why do we imagine that the illusion of control is such a great one? The irony: I don’t want to make a mess of things, when my life truly feels like a big heap of shambles and brokenness. My life is like a messy drawer - the drawer you throw stuff in for convenience sake, mostly because you don’t know what to do with the contents but you don’t know for sure if the stuff can be thrown away or if you must hang on to it.
Laying it out in such words - black on white it seems clear that from this pretend-control, this life-mess, this stage-play should flow the energy, the inspiration of artistic ability. I find that I cannot find inspiration because I am afraid of what is ugly. I have always done only pretty art - I haven’t explored options. I have placed myself into the iron barred box, locked it and thrown away the key.
But what if this all is the metaphor of my life?
In order to be free I have to overcome the fear and illusion of what I think life is - in favor of the truth, of looking at the monster, the adversary, straight in the face. A staring contest, a test of will. And to quit pretending it is all a fairy tale, it is all pretty and lovely and butterflies. But instead allowing real emotions, allow the bruises, scratches and cuts to be exposed. To limp along, to be brave and to endure.
Not for pity, not for attention or to be admired. For the wellness of my being. If I am created to create and that is part of my being, part of my DNA, part of what God delighted to give unto me, then to lock this potential up inside surely must make me sick. It is like the parable of the servants who received talents. (Matthew 25:14-30) [Paraphrased and inspiration and some word choices taken from the Message version.]
Sobering, very sobering indeed. Especially upon reflection of my own life. I so seldom invest my sweat and blood and passion into anything. My fear of going out on a limb and failing, is the poison which paralyzes me to utter numbness. Maybe it is this, what poisons and sucks the very life from my blood and bones. Which causes my hair to be thin, my skin to be without color or glow, my eyes to be dull and unfocused. Perhaps that is why I must hide behind a facade, because I mustn’t be seen for that true, broken thing. Scavenging for scraps under the table like a dog. Too afraid to sit at the table with those who have the courage to fail.
And in light of this another scripture which has come to my attention this week.
David wrote this from a place of deep agony and disappointment. But his conclusion from his outpouring and vulnerable place of creating was: GOD ALONE. GOD ALONE never fails us, especially when those who were meant to love us, do. GOD ALONE, can never, ever disappoint us. GOD ALONE will never let go or leave us. GOD ALONE stands with us always.
And there it is, in the verse “So why would I let worry paralyze me, even when troubles multiply around me?” There is no real failure with God - the only failure is the one of not risking, of not being poured out, of playing it safe, of being cooped up and stored away. Hiding one’s true person deep within the darkness of a cave, never to see the light from fear of more pain, and more rejection.
But the parable of the gold coins is clear: If I don’t go out and risk something - anything! Then there is simply no reward, no return at all. Life will drudge on as it always has, an endless circle. It is true after all ‘If you do the same thing you always do, you will get the same thing you always get.’ The wind of change, the Spirit wind of courage and possibility will stir the waters, and when the waters are stirred, miracles and healing happens.
I keep saying I am a writer - but a writer who doesn’t write isn’t really a writer! Just as I keep saying I am an Artist but I am too afraid to fail, too afraid of imperfection to let the reigns lose and make a mess of something.
I have tried to hold the reins, to bridle my own life, to pretend I am in control. But more and more I just realize how impossible it is. Why do we imagine that the illusion of control is such a great one? The irony: I don’t want to make a mess of things, when my life truly feels like a big heap of shambles and brokenness. My life is like a messy drawer - the drawer you throw stuff in for convenience sake, mostly because you don’t know what to do with the contents but you don’t know for sure if the stuff can be thrown away or if you must hang on to it.
Laying it out in such words - black on white it seems clear that from this pretend-control, this life-mess, this stage-play should flow the energy, the inspiration of artistic ability. I find that I cannot find inspiration because I am afraid of what is ugly. I have always done only pretty art - I haven’t explored options. I have placed myself into the iron barred box, locked it and thrown away the key.
But what if this all is the metaphor of my life?
In order to be free I have to overcome the fear and illusion of what I think life is - in favor of the truth, of looking at the monster, the adversary, straight in the face. A staring contest, a test of will. And to quit pretending it is all a fairy tale, it is all pretty and lovely and butterflies. But instead allowing real emotions, allow the bruises, scratches and cuts to be exposed. To limp along, to be brave and to endure.
Not for pity, not for attention or to be admired. For the wellness of my being. If I am created to create and that is part of my being, part of my DNA, part of what God delighted to give unto me, then to lock this potential up inside surely must make me sick. It is like the parable of the servants who received talents. (Matthew 25:14-30) [Paraphrased and inspiration and some word choices taken from the Message version.]
“The Parable goes, that a master had given gold pieces to his servants before departing on a long journey. To one he gave 5, the second 3 and to the third he gave a single piece.
Now the first went out to double his 5 pieces, the second also did likewise. The third however, digs a hole and buries his investment deep into the ground where it lays untouched, unchanged.
Upon the masters return from his absence, he asks an account of his servants. The first proudly presents his ten pieces of gold, to what the master proudly proclaims, ‘WELL DONE! You may join me in my endeavors.’ The second also brings forth his 6 pieces of gold and once more the master is delighted, ‘WELL DONE! You may also join me in my endeavors.’
But the third he went to his hole, digs up the one piece of gold, and with the gold dusty and muddled he stands before the master returning him one piece, just as he had received. Immediately the third servant goes in to explain his thinking, ‘Master, I know you have high standards and hate careless ways, that you demand the best and make no allowances for error. I was afraid I might disappoint you, so I found a good hiding place and secured your gold. Here it is, safe and sound (if not a bit dirty).’
We know that this made the master very angry. He wonders why the gold wasn’t placed at least in a bank so that at least he might have received interest upon his return. 'If you know I expect the best, why did you do the very least? Give your piece of gold to the one who risked the most, and get rid of this ‘play-it-safe’ who won’t go out on a limb. Cast him out, into outer darkness.’
Now the first went out to double his 5 pieces, the second also did likewise. The third however, digs a hole and buries his investment deep into the ground where it lays untouched, unchanged.
Upon the masters return from his absence, he asks an account of his servants. The first proudly presents his ten pieces of gold, to what the master proudly proclaims, ‘WELL DONE! You may join me in my endeavors.’ The second also brings forth his 6 pieces of gold and once more the master is delighted, ‘WELL DONE! You may also join me in my endeavors.’
But the third he went to his hole, digs up the one piece of gold, and with the gold dusty and muddled he stands before the master returning him one piece, just as he had received. Immediately the third servant goes in to explain his thinking, ‘Master, I know you have high standards and hate careless ways, that you demand the best and make no allowances for error. I was afraid I might disappoint you, so I found a good hiding place and secured your gold. Here it is, safe and sound (if not a bit dirty).’
We know that this made the master very angry. He wonders why the gold wasn’t placed at least in a bank so that at least he might have received interest upon his return. 'If you know I expect the best, why did you do the very least? Give your piece of gold to the one who risked the most, and get rid of this ‘play-it-safe’ who won’t go out on a limb. Cast him out, into outer darkness.’
Sobering, very sobering indeed. Especially upon reflection of my own life. I so seldom invest my sweat and blood and passion into anything. My fear of going out on a limb and failing, is the poison which paralyzes me to utter numbness. Maybe it is this, what poisons and sucks the very life from my blood and bones. Which causes my hair to be thin, my skin to be without color or glow, my eyes to be dull and unfocused. Perhaps that is why I must hide behind a facade, because I mustn’t be seen for that true, broken thing. Scavenging for scraps under the table like a dog. Too afraid to sit at the table with those who have the courage to fail.
And in light of this another scripture which has come to my attention this week.
‘He alone is my safe place;
his wrap-around presence always protects me.
For he is my champion defender;
there’s no risk of failure with God.
So why would I let worry paralyze me,
even when troubles multiply around me?’
Psalm 62:2 (TPT)
his wrap-around presence always protects me.
For he is my champion defender;
there’s no risk of failure with God.
So why would I let worry paralyze me,
even when troubles multiply around me?’
Psalm 62:2 (TPT)
David wrote this from a place of deep agony and disappointment. But his conclusion from his outpouring and vulnerable place of creating was: GOD ALONE. GOD ALONE never fails us, especially when those who were meant to love us, do. GOD ALONE, can never, ever disappoint us. GOD ALONE will never let go or leave us. GOD ALONE stands with us always.
And there it is, in the verse “So why would I let worry paralyze me, even when troubles multiply around me?” There is no real failure with God - the only failure is the one of not risking, of not being poured out, of playing it safe, of being cooped up and stored away. Hiding one’s true person deep within the darkness of a cave, never to see the light from fear of more pain, and more rejection.
But the parable of the gold coins is clear: If I don’t go out and risk something - anything! Then there is simply no reward, no return at all. Life will drudge on as it always has, an endless circle. It is true after all ‘If you do the same thing you always do, you will get the same thing you always get.’ The wind of change, the Spirit wind of courage and possibility will stir the waters, and when the waters are stirred, miracles and healing happens.
