shrinkwrap.

"Sundown" Process. September 2012.

I have a number of canvases in what formerly was my art studio / now storage room.  All the medium sized canvases are half-finished.  All the large canvases are still shrink-wrapped.  And looking at these untouched canvases, it dawned on me how much my mindset needs adjustment.

I realized I don't paint on large canvases because I feel as though something of grand size and attention deserves a "worthy" image.  Sometimes a beautiful concept will come to mind, and I will drizzle these pencil strokes in my sketchbook.  But then I never transfer them onto the canvas, because it still doesn't feel good enough.

There.  I said it.

Sometimes I don't paint because I don't feel like I am good enough.

But God did not create me with hopes, desires and ideas, only to have them collect dust on a shelf, to be read like distant fairy tales of impossible nature.  He did not give me abilities and ambitions, only for me to bury them in the ground because I'm afraid that if I use them they might break (or break me).  He does not weigh His heart on mine or His thoughts on my mind, only for me to talk at Him than communicate with Him.

I've lived with such a fear of failure that sometimes I shut down instead of dare to try.  I'm sure that is not at all what God intended for my life when He formed me.

In the past few weeks, I've been meditating on God's intentions.  And I think about how our God - the Creator of the Universe - has plans for nations, and governments, and people groups, and galaxies.  And this very God also has a plan for this island.. And He decided to share a part of this plan with me.  In fact, He's shared parts of different plans with everyone.  Imagine!  To think that God gave me a part of His dreams because He trusts me to carry out these plans.  Some days I wish He wouldn't trust me so much.  But it's only because He loves me that much.

So why am I not stepping out?  Why do I easily talk about these hopes and dreams, without actually pursuing them?  Why do I limit myself to familiarity and comfort?  Why is my whole life shrink-wrapped and hiding behind mounds of other stuff?

Right now, I've got the canvases out, and I'm dabbling a little bit.  And I am reminded that it is okay to paint over and start again.  That I don't have to get it right the first time, or the second, but that I must paint anyway.  That I can't let my art be trapped in sketchbooks, or as concepts in my mind.  And I am reminded that His mercies are new every morning, and today is another day to get up and walk by faith.  And I am reminded that I have to - I must - be a good steward of the gifts and dreams God has given to me.

And after I finish these canvases, I can always get a new one, and keep creating, keep dreaming.

And anyway, He didn't create us merely to be good enough.  He created us for greatness.  Amene.

The LORD confides in those who fear Him...
- Psalm 25.14

"And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge the God of your father, and serve Him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for the LORD searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts.  If you seek Him, He will be found by you; but if you forsake Him, He will reject you forever.  Consider now, for the LORD has chosen you to build a temple as a sanctuary.  Be strong and do the work."
- I Chronicles 28.9-10

In other news, it's still comforting to know that God enjoys speaking to me through the art process.  How did rummaging through storage resurrect the deeper issues of life?  You're funny, Abba.


xo

currently listening: Jon Thurlow.  reminded how much I miss this...

living free

Our environment and circumstances may have been handed to us without our consent, such as where we grew up, the relationships that surrounded our upbringing, or the type of sustenance and allowances we lived by.  Some things, we made the decision for ourselves - what type of career we pursue, what kind of friendships we pursued, what kind of lifestyle we chose.   Some of these were excellent paths, others are mistakes- stains that we try relentlessly to erase.

And all these things, as we look back at our years, cannot be changed.  However, we make the choice how to react.  Will we be full of self pity, disappointment, regret? This is our human response.  It becomes a natural response to cringe, weep, and shrink back in fear from anything that could agitate the horrifying memories of failure.

Yet, to live by the Spirit is to live apart from condemnation- self-condemnation! - and to live in freedom.  You were not meant to be a slave to regret.  You were not meant to live your life controlled by the fears of repeating the effects of weakness.  You were not meant to be paralyzed by bitterness, anger, or resentment.

You have the freedom to choose!  You have the freedom to choose joy and peace and patience, you have the choice to walk away from negativity.  Maybe you have that option to change your circumstances.  Maybe these situations cannot be changed.  And that is okay.  Your mind can change, your heart can change, your attitude can change - all by the power of God.

Why should we burden ourselves?  He means for us to live free.

The mind of the sinful man is death, but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace.
- Romans 8.6

For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship.
- Romans 8.15

xo

currently listening: Hillsong, A Beautiful Exchange

Fruit of the Spirit + Thoughts on Convent

I probably joke more about nunnery than I should be allowed to.  And the response I get from people don't surprise me as much as they sadden me.  They are usually bursts of "NO" and "I WON'T LET YOU" or "YOU'RE CRAZY."  I am not surprised by the degree reaction.  But what saddens me is how our society has deemed THIS as a radical life.  Nunnery: the surrender of your life to holy service from wake til rest and every dream in between.  Nunnery!? Radical?  To think: at one point the appalling, extreme choices of any young generation are now legal and normal.  I need not give examples.

The reality is, I could do it.  In case curiosity piques you, it has nothing to do with singleness, as most people associate the terms.  Honestly, a family would be nice.  But simply put, I would love nothing more than to devote my life to solitude, prayer, worship, mercy, simplicity, and gardening.  But here is why I will not do it: my faith would suffer.  Servitude is radical to those who do not understand; it is not radical under the light of what God would really intend for my life purposes.  There are no easy solutions in life, but this, for me, would be the easiest.  For me, to live the life of a Desert Mother would make my spirit a desert in itself, disillusioned that a life of righteousness is a life of holiness.  The Fruit of the Spirit would have little space to grow.

I cannot learn true love when those around me have learned to love deeply too, when those around me love me back with a God-based love.

I learn to love when I am surrounded by those who have no regard or care for me.  I learn to love when people hate me because I choose to be different in the midst of a changing society.  I learn to love when I come across people who live spiritually lukewarm lives.

I cannot learn true joy when I spend countless hours in devotional happiness and meaningful worship.

I learn joy when I feel the loss of relationships and the losses within relationships.  I learn joy when sorrow and loneliness are promised like the changing seasons, when uncontrollable and unfortunate circumstances befall me.  When I have no control.

I cannot learn true peace when I am in constant quiet and stillness.

I learn peace when the demands of the day, and finances, and work, and health, and human interaction all compete with my sanity.  I learn peace when I attempt multi-tasking and stress taunts me.  I learn peace when I have too many things to think about.

I cannot learn true patience when I have a predictable schedule and no demands, except to pray.

I learn patience when I make concrete plans - even God-given plans - and I do not know my next steps, I do not know where to go.  I learn patience when He makes me wait for His direction, but chronos time breathes down my neck.  I learn patience when I do not yet see His promises fulfilled, and I battle with waiting.

I cannot learn true kindness when giving to the poor and extending mercy to the needy prompts a natural response of compassion.

I learn kindness when my pride wants to rise against the prides of others, when I feel an urge to resist humility, when I feel revenge and retaliation, or when I feel that a person does not deserve my good graces.  I learn kindness after I consider the individual circumstances that others must face, and the weights that they too must bear.

I cannot learn true goodness and righteousness when holiness and the Sermon on the Mount is the utmost rule.

I learn that I must be good regardless if I am tired of upholding the Standard.  I learn to be righteous when the Law seems impractical and outdated, and I want so desperately to compromise and be accepted- but I know I must not give in.  I learn to be holy in a world that is unholy and mundane and profane.  I learn goodness when I must be Light and Salt in a dark and tasteless world.

I cannot learn true gentleness when a passive atmosphere has already been created for me.

I learn gentleness when I deal with an unpredictable family, with unpredictable strangers, with unpredictable circumstances.  I learn gentleness when anger and rage and frustration volunteer to be the launching pad of my words and imaginations.  I learn gentleness when others treat me rudely.

I cannot learn true faithfulness when I have already made a lifetime commitment to stay within a Godly community.

I learn faithfulness when it's easy to slip into the predictability of my loneliness, having no accountability, staying hidden and uninvolved.  I learn faithfulness good intentions turn into false motives and idolatry, when I am more concerned about the methods of worship rather than worship itself.  I learn faithfulness when I am fooled by infidelity.  

I cannot truly learn self-control when I have been depleted of all life's pleasures.

I learn self-control when I am plagued by indulgences that my flesh desires, and the compromise of "just one" or "once in a while" haunts my willpower.  I learn self-control when I need to restrain myself for any reason, and every easy reason has presented itself to me.  I learn self-control when I relinquish control; when I must depend on One who I cannot see, and I want to act upon what I can see.

The droughts of the world are what forces me to stretch my roots deep into the soil to find the Water of Life; they persuade me to stand firm, immoveable.  These hardships and difficulties urge me to increase my faith, and lean upon the hope of His promises.  For these reasons, I cannot live in a convent.  I would have less reason to fight for love, to fight for holiness.  I would have less opportunity to be a minister of the Word.  I would have less chance to spend myself like an offering on the streets of a broken city.  I would have less desire to be a living sacrifice, dying to my flesh so that the Truth of Christ can resurrect through me.

People are right.  I cannot be a nun.  It's not radical enough.

I cannot be cloistered in.  I must live outside.  I must Love aloud.

I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.  Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith..
Philippians 1.23-25

xo

currently listening: Seryn. "Beach Song," This is Where We Are.

currently reading: Richard Foster, Celebration of Disciplines.

currently drinking: Stumptown Ethiopia Nano Challa, pourover