Primitive Christianity Revived, Again
My brain working:
This is highly unusual: sitting down to write and really struggling with something to say. I prefer to be moved by a topic rather than to manufacture one. That is also the essence of my challenge in life; to live into the mystery yet not miss the small, daily moments. To follow God's call, but be practical in carrying it out. To dream, then to follow through. When to wait and when to act. When to listen and when to speak. I can become absorbed in other worlds or too busy in this one.
I'm certain you know the dilemma.
In this case, my case right now, I think it's the busyness that's taking a toll. If anyone had suggested I'd be knee-deep in getting an arts organization off the ground at any time, but in summer with kids home, I'd have balked. Yet here I am. Organizing a registration event. Soliciting donations. Assembling and seeking guidance from an advisory group. Chatting with the police chief. Writing grants. Winning grants. Setting up a studio. Hoping I don't have to move it. Gathering supplies.
It's not my usual, more contemplative, rhythm. I am tried, bone tired. Yet also exhilarated at what's transpired and is unfolding. I haven't made much art save three turtle boxes and almost forgotten what it's like to hold a pastel. When I look again, however, I see I am creating something bigger on a larger canvas. Not a single painting or box, but a place, a concept, a program, a way of being.
But there has got to be spaciousness, balance, room for both, not either/or. I miss my regular walks to yoga because of shuttling kids or stormy weather. Held hostage inside by insanely soaring temperatures and matching humidity, disconnecting me from Mother Earth.
My heart working:
Space. Silence. A listening heart asking "God, what's the message right here, right now?"
living water/pastel on paper
It's about being a hollow vessel: broken, chipped and less than perfect. But, being a willing vessel, longing to be filled, overflowing so others may drink. Letting that living water spill out, but also savoring some for myself. Drinking, refreshing. Being brought back to life again and again and sharing that with others. Not even looking at the page as I type. Blindly typing the words forming in my heart at the moment. Letting God in. Now.
Sharing the message that we all need the spaciousness in our lives. The time for God. The time to renew and refresh and drink the living water. No matter where we are, who we are or what we are doing.
We ALL need a drink, to be filled. And it's always available. God's constant gift.
• Where am I struggling right now?
• How is busyness keeping me from what I may need?
• How can I create space NOW?
• What's my heart saying?
• How is God responding?