Get after it, or don't.
A disconcerting lump appeared behind my left thigh a few months back. My gut told me it wasn't right as I made a mental note to get it checked. Months flew by, months full of really wonderful things and also things like chores, work, kids with the flu, marriage talks and library books overdue.
Finally making it happen, the Dermatologist rolled his chair closer to me and muttered, "why haven't you been in since January 2013?" I audibly laughed. I had babies, two, in fact! It didn't seem to please him. But, sir? I could barely keep my head on straight, let alone make an annual appointment to see you, kind sir.
His question took me back to 2012, the year my Reese was born. The year my life got turned around completely. The year I hunkered down, the year I wanted out, and the year I began realizing what life was about. Kissing her face was all bliss, the spiritual/emotional battle was heart-wrenching, tearful but really sweet.Postpartum depression, a colicky baby, moves, deaths, it can swallow and at times it had for me.
I sold my soul when no one was asking me too. I have no shame in losing myself those years, it's a part of my story and I didn't know another way. In between, I learned lessons that now dictate my life. Rich, beautifully broken moments where God swooped me up and kissed my cheeks, over and over again. There is definitly beauty from those ashes. The struggle, the tears, the letting go and the perseverance; It made me who I am today.
Seasons are changing, but I'm still learning and listening.
A few days in Joshua Tree with my soul-friends and I got the feeling again. They discussed art collecting and their coveted pieces and my gut tensed up. I almost walked right out the door to the nearest art store, but I'm not sure I would know how to get there.
You see, art is something inside of me. A gift, a passion, at times a nag, begging me to partake. I haven't felt like the time had been right in, well, six years. My friend sweetly reminded me that that's just okay. Life comes in seasons.
When will the time be right?
Probably never. There will always be something, amiright? My encouragement to you is to listen to the nagging, whatever it is. For you, it may be to put down your paintbrushes and focus your work elsewhere. For you, it may be to add something to the schedule. For someone else, it might mean sleeping in instead of getting up early, it might mean quitting your job or working harder at your current one. I don't know, I do know the Holy Spirit whispers truth and guides us. I do know He wants you to shine and thrive (even if thriving looks like nursing your babies at 4am). He wants you to live your best life because He didn't create you for nothing, I believe this so strongly.
The next morning, back at home, I opened my art drawer and pulled out my old art notebooks and pads of blank paper. So much blank paper. I grabbed it haphazardly. I'm not sure if the paper or the artist was more frightened and thrilled simnultanously.
As I began setting up my blank paper and sketching pencils I thought to myself...
I don't want to die with all of these BLANK PAGES. At the rate I was going, these beautiful pads of paper could have stayed in my closet for another couple of years, maybe even a lifetime. I am thankful for the reawakening. I am also aware my years of forgetting myself, changing diapers, swallowed by depression have led me here. I'm not sure I would rewrite my story if I could.
It might be difficult, you might have to wrestle that damn thing into submission. You might have to empty your hands for a season of waiting and quiet.
I urge you to listen. I encourage you to move if it's for you and to rest if it's for you. My prayer is that your creator would guide you, whatever your journey is. That he would remind you, sweetly and softly that He sees you and He is not finished with you. That deep down to your toes you would be deeply fine because you are you; just right.
Let's do this, friends.
LOVE TO YOU!