Wednesday, April 17, 2013

I Want You to Know

turquoise notebook

Someone asked me today,

What is it that keeps you up at night? What could you talk about every single day for the rest of your life? 

My first thought was -- myself.  

And the next thought -- I need to shut this narcissistic blog down, if that's what's at the heart of it all. Immediately.  No one needs to read my self-centered tripe.

But.

Then my brain wheels got to clicking and I realized that, while I do write largely about myself here, that's not what drives me.

Because if all I wanted to talk about was myself, there would be a lot more whining.  Trust me, people.  A lot more.  I am a champion whiner.

But there's not really a whole lot of whine going on around here.  Vulnerability?  Raw truths?  Yes, and yes.

And I begin to realize, perhaps for the first time with my conscious mind, what it is that keeps me up at night, that runs electric through my veins and begs to be told.

It is a story of redemption that I'm telling here.  My story, yes, but also yours.  Redemption for all of us.

I write because I want you to know some things.  To know that there's more for you than the pain and grief and disappointment and depression and illness and accidents that you've been dealt.  To know that there's more for you than the hell that you may find yourself living in.

To know that you are more than your mistakes, more than the slurs and compliments that you've been handed.

To know that you have a voice, that you have a story, and that the telling of it has the power to heal both your heart and others'.

To know that you have great value, both on this earth and in God's heart bleeding out mercy and extravagant, embarrassing love for you.  To know that you are intrinsically lovely in a way that has nothing to do with your waist or accomplishments or awards.

To know that healing is possible.  That healing is coming, to you.  That it may even be on its way right now.  

I have walked in darkness, and hope survives.  I want that for you, also, my friends.  For all the world.

And so I write.  So I loose words on the page and paint upon canvas and pray that God would guide and use and breathe Life into it for us all.

And you, friends?  What could you talk about every single day of your life and have it never grow stale?

* * *

Exciting things have been happening in my art studio -- out of nowhere, energy and time have emerged.  And from that, new paints have been born.  Pieces that are, I think, a picture of the inside of my heart.  They are available as prints in the shop.  It is a blessing to be able to share them with you:

After the Storm 4x6 watermark Heartsong watermark

8 comments:

  1. "It is a story of redemption that I'm telling here. My story, yes, but also yours. Redemption for all of us."

    Yes. And this is why I love your space so much. It is vulnerable and raw and beautiful. And most of all, it points to God's incomprehensible bigness in whatever must be faced.

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  2. I, for one, am glad you write. ❤

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  3. Redemption! Yes! This is so beautiful, Beth.

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  4. Well written piece for the writing prompt. I loved it.

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  5. Love this. Love. YES!! This is why the telling is so necessary. It all matters.

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  6. What a powerful write. There is healing in our stories, in His work in our lives and no more so than the ones of Redemption and Love. Thank you for your ministry.

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"I am glad you are here with me."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King