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Standing There

“Don’t just do something. Stand there.”

I feel like that could be my life motto.

While I am thankful for the various jobs I’ve had throughout the years, the core of who I am is contemplative.

I could stand, or sit, and think, read, pray, study and write a couple hours every day.

To be in that secret place of acceptance with my Heavenly Father, to commume with Him, to gaze at the blueness of the September sky, to work in the garden, to take walks, be with family and friends, to live life.

I do work and I work hard. I am a little ‘worker bee’. There are many parts of me, two of them specifically which clash and clash often. The contemplative part and the worker part.

I like being still and quiet. I love studying the Bible, meditating on Scripture, praying, being with fellow believers, gazing at the beauty around me.

I like working. Work and a job are two different things. Working on a personal project is usually fulfiling and satisfying. Working at my job, well, I do what my boss tells me to do and for the most part I enjoy it, but it’s not self-directed, it has to be done. There’s not much room for ‘standing there’.

But as I’m working at my job, what needs to be done, my soul is longing to be outside, lying on a blanket in the soft green grass, gazing at the blue sky, or up at tree branches, feeling the gentle breeze on my skin, hearing the birds calling to one another, me, resting, quietly, contented, peaceful, happy (Of course, add a book, a journal, the Bible and a bottle of water or tea and then I’m really good).

The actual moments when I am outdoors enjoying the grass, sky and bird calls are few and far between, at least that’s how it feels as of late. When I do get my contemplative time it feels brief and fleeting. But I guess that makes it all the more precious.

How can I add more contemplative time to my schedule?

By saying NO to other things…

It’s a start.

Why Journal?

I mentioned in my last post that I had found a journal that my dad had written while my mom was expecting me.

This past Sunday I was at my mom’s house and mentioned that I had read through dad’s expectant father journal. My mom said, ‘I kept one too!’. And yes, I did remember that and knew I had it at home, so last night I read through it. It was considerably shorter than the one my dad had written, in fact, it was more like, ‘I’m pregnant!’, a couple entries then, ‘I’m a mom!’. 🙂 No matter how short it was, it was still very meaningful and special to me. You could feel her excitement through the pages.

Not all of us are writers, and that’s ok. Not all of us keep journals, and that’s ok too. The world needs all sorts of people!

My mom kept her expectant mother journal in a 70’s looking (Ah, well…it really was the 70’s) hard back blank book, complete with the title ‘Diary of a Happy Housewife’ on the front cover with a cartoony-looking girl on the front in an apron and frying pan. I love it!

The diary also has a dust jack and on the inner flap of the jacket it has ideas on how to use the happy housewife diary. You know, marketing. Why should I use this journal? Why do I need a blank book? As I was reading the ideas they outlined, I really loved how they phrased them and wished I had written it (Ha!), but thought that I would share them with you.

Why use a blank journal or book? Why keep a daily diary?

In the words of a copywriter from the Abbey Press over forty years ago, here are some great reasons:

A permanent book for your own thoughts, memories, dreams and ideas
A diary to keep a lasting record of the days of your life
A journal to gain perspective on experience by articulating the what and the why of life
A book of creative writing – a beautiful and appropriate volume for your fiction and poetry
A collage of creativity, combining drawings and texts in a multi-media expression of your inspiratons (Left hand pages are blank for sketching, right hand pages are ruled to aid writing)
A commonplace book of insights, personal visions and imagined utopias
A memory book for photographys, flower pressings and nostaliga of all kinds
A meditation guide to record your journeys into the very center of yourself
A celebration book to celebrate and nourish your own uniqueness
A joy book for your great experiences and happy moments
An adventure into your self

Isn’t that fun? Doesn’t that make you want to write?

‘…imagined utopias…’!

It makes my heart happy. 🙂

September

September is my birthday month.

When I was younger both my dad and mom would write a yearly birthday letter to me.

Yesterday evening I felt I should read through some of the letters they had written to me. I knew it would be emotional and hard and I’d probably cry, but I felt it was something special I needed to do to celebrate my birth month.

September is a beautiful month. The weather is nice and cool, the sky is so blue, the air sweet and fresh. I’ve always loved this September and I’ve always been happy to have been born in the most gorgeous month of the year.

While reading through the letters yesterday, I also happened to come across a diary that my dad had written while my mom was expecting me (A long time ago, may I add).

I’ve had the diary for awhile, and I’ve read it before although it had been many years. In light of my dad’s passing earlier this year reading through it again was even more special, meaningful and poignant.

The diary was written on loose leaf pages, torn from a spiral bound daily planner, complete with hours of the day on the sides of the paper, and all stapled together in the corner. The papers are now quite yellow with age.

My dad’s familiar, messy handwriting penning the words of an excited, expectant father.

My parents had had a hard time with starting a family and they had lost two babies prior to my being born. This, this time was different.

I can see my dad, a young man, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his first child, chronicling the months as they waited, the preparation (They refurbished a dresser for me!), the trips to the doctor, my dad writing how much he loved me, how much he wanted to raise his children for the Lord, dedicating my life, even before I was born, to the One who was creating me.

There are no words to describe how precious my dad’s expectant father diary is to me.

And the birthday letters. My dad saying how when I was a toddler I’d wait for him at the door to come home from work.

I can just see my toddler self at the storm door, peeking out, waiting. Little towhead me, with barrettes in my hair, waiting for dad.

My parents memories of me during a time I don’t remember are very sweet to me. Knowing that I was wanted, expected, loved, cared for and prayed for while in the womb…knowing that I was so special to my dad.

I can just see my dad, a young man, living his dream of living in a house he rehabbed, his wife and child at home, him waiting to come home and be with us at the end of a long work day, just as we waited for him.

My dad, a true family man. My parents, family people. Grassroots, hippie-turned-to-Jesus, unconventional, not radical, but counter-culture. They were intentional and specific in how they raised their children. Their heart was for a family, raising their children in the knowledge and true love of Jesus. They ended up having a big (rowdy and noisy) family with lots of kids.

As the years went by, and I became bigger, older, aware of life and God and people and things and could express my feelings…I wonder…how much did I hurt my parents? My dad? I know his heart towards me was always kind, even when we were conflicted in our personalities when I was a child and teenager. It’s part of the growing up process. How much did I think of my dad, my parents? I was just myself, living life, growing up, not thinking of them, really at all. Of course they were a part of my life, of who I was and who I was becoming, we interacted on a daily basis, we did things together, but I was busy growing up, into my own life, my own person, interests and schedules.

As I matured into adulthood I learned to appreciate my dad, for who he was, as a person, and not just as a parental figure in my life. I do appreciate my dad, how he raised me, how he loved me. He was human and not perfect, but he was a good dad.

I’m thankful for the memories my parents wrote down, how my dad’s words, written over 40 years ago, are impacting my life today.

In a way, I still want to be the little girl at the storm door waiting for my dad to get home from work.

Maybe, in a way, I always will be.

What Are You Eating?

Several years ago I had a friend who was going through some fertility issues.

We would get together on a semi-regular basis and take a walk through the park and talk and often those talks would revolve around where she was at in her journey of wanting to have child.

I was single at the time, or shall I say, I had just recently met the man I ended up marrying.

I knew, as a single person, the desire to get married and raise a family, so on one hand I could relate. But I didn’t really have much of a concept as a married person what it was like to go through fertility issues with a spouse. Which is, as I’ve found, very different. My friend would talk about being in a desert season in life…and now, as a married person without children, but wanting them, I can definitely relate to this ‘desert season’.

One day, during this time a few years back, I was reading in my Bible John chapter 6. Jesus had recently fed the 5,000 and the crowds had followed Him…seeking, wanting more of Him, the Bread of Life, as He reveals in this passage. As I was reading this chapter, a verse struck me, “Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and are dead” (John 6:49).

I stopped, pondered, and I felt the question arise, ‘What am I eating in the desert?’

I felt this verse and question specifically pertained to my friend. What was she eating during this desert season of her life?

And by eating, I don’t mean physical food. I mean spiritual.

Am I ‘eating’ the Bible, wholesome, uplifting songs, godly conversation and books that spur me on in my walk of faith?

Or, in contrast, am I binging on Netflix, any novel I can get my hands on, political news three times a day, or secular radio?

And not like Netflix, the news, secular radio or novels are bad…but how wholesome are they for your spirit…especially in a desert season?

Are you drinking pure water from the Scriptures which is life giving, thirst quenching and necessary, very, very necessary…esepcially in the desert?

Or are you drinking sugary sodas that make you even more thirsty and will most likely kill you…especially if you’re in the desert?

Not long after I read this passage I shared my insight with my friend to encourage her. What was she eating in the desert?

Now I find myself in the same position as my friend. Married, with a desire to start a family and feeling like I’m in a wilderness.

I’ve been asking myself, ‘What am I eating?’

I want to say wholesome, healthy things, and yes, I have, partly.

But more often than not I find myself…working…stressing…wanting to zone in front of a movie…to not think…to numb the reality of us currently being childless.

I don’t know if my friend changed what she ‘ate’ after I gave her my little insight. I do know that now her and her husband have two cute kids.

I share this with you to encourage you too, my friend. I don’t know your situation or what you are going through in life. But I can pose this question to you, especially if you are in a desert or wildnerness season, I ask, ‘What are you eating?’

Update

It seems like it’s been a long time since I’ve written. Maybe it hasn’t really been that long, but it feels long.

There’s a few things that have contributed to my lack of writing, but mostly, I just haven’t been in the mood.

Weird, I know, right?

Maybe not so weird. But I’ve really been struggling with losing my dad, some depression, grief, stress, fertility challenges and really wanting to have a child and perhaps some memory issues thrown in (Whether from grief, stress, depression or physical issues, I don’t know)…all add up to a lack of writing. I’ve mostly been trying to get through each day; the routine of whatever happens to be on my plate that day. It feels like it’s all been a lot of work and not much play recently.

I’m still trying to make time, if only a little, for my art play days, prepping supplies and ideas for Fodder School (So ready to start!), working on my Autumn Book Collection and doing some self-care art therapy. But it’s only bits here and there.

The verse in Luke 10 comes to mind when Jesus says to His friend, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed…’

Yes, worried and perhaps upset is what I’ve been lately, try as I might not to be. My heart desires the one thing that Jesus says is so important in that passage, sitting at His feet and being with Him. Yet…and yet…so many distractions and worries and things to keep me away.

My therapist recommended I see a psychiatrist; which freaked me out big time. But I am swallowing a hard pill of humility and going in a week or so. Mostly just to see if everything is ok physically (The little memory issues have me concerned mostly and I’m just. so. tired. all the time).

I’ve also made a big life decision and have decided to wear my glasses full time — that is, if I can keep them on my face all day. It’s 6:30 am and I’ve already had enough of them. But I am hoping it will help with my spacial awareness (Don’t laugh. This is also a hard pill of humility. Maybe it’s just getting older and things that come with that and life decisions that need to be made. This realization that, no, really, I’m not 20 any more. Who knows).

This verse in James has also been helpful, ‘Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.’

Through the current difficulties of each day, especially with our fertility challenges lately, I feel like my faith is being severely tested. But I am trying to hold on and let these trials produce perseverance, patience and maturity in my life

This song by Shane and Shane has been helpful to me the last week or so.

The line ‘What am I supposed to do/With my kingdoms next to You?’ undoes me.

My kingdoms.

Ugh…my kingdoms of work, business, home, art…they are nothing next to Jesus.

‘I could gain the world and more/It’s all nothing next to You’.

Nothing. Nothing.

Choosing Him — surrendering to His plan for my life, walking in humility and graciousness down this long road, listening for His voice, being with Him through His Spirit — that is worth everything.

Finding the Process II

Since I’m going to Fodder School in a month or so, I’m prepping my work space and also my supplies.

One of the things I am looking forward to discovering over the course of the next year and a bit is my unique style with mixed media and collaging.

These are some of the things that I am drawn to and are on my heart to use in developing my own personal style.

Words

I feel like words are a very typical to use in mixed media collage, and I’m sure my style won’t necessarily be different in this regard, however, the words that I are on my heart to use are specifically Scripture, handwritten. The Word of God is a huge, if not my main, source of inspiration to me not only in my life, but in my art as well. The Bible is alive and I want to bring the words to live somehow, someway, in what I create.

Old book pages, another fairly typical collage aspect, is something that I’ve always been drawn to and plan to continue using in my art.

Found words and phrases cut from old books is another thing I am drawn to and plan to use a lot of.

Nature

I’ve always loved the natural world and elements found in nature. Specifically trees, roots, water and rivers.

Pictures I’ve taken of the natural world (Sky, trees) I would love to incorporate, but that is something I will have to find a process for.

My limited color palette I plan to start with are a midnight purple/blue, orange/pinks or pinks, darker blues, and a dark aqua-marine green. I love earthy tones too; not sure how those will play in, but will have to experiment.

I know that I said I found my process of book making in this post, but I am quickly learning that that was just the beginning of finding how I work and what process I use to create books. Mixed media and books is a whole other ballgame that I am just diving into. I haven’t found my process yet, but I hope that will come throughout this coming year.

What are things that you feel are unique to you and your art? What are you naturally drawn to? What do you like to use? What colors are you naturally drawn to?

Reasons

I signed up for Fodder School.

What school?

Until very recently I don’t thik the word ‘fodder’ was really in my vocabulary, at least not my art vocabulary.

But, thanks to the internet and the Instagram world, it is.

Stumbling upon an IG account that I happened to like the look of, liking leads to looking at their website for more info, I like the website enuogh to sign up for their newsletter, their newsletter announces a mixed media collage challenge using little bits you have around, or ie, ‘fodder’, I sign up because mixed media collage is something I’ve always liked the look of and wanted to learn, and then, of course, the challenge leads them (The people on IG who started this challenge) to create a virtual school, Fodder School, in which you learn how to 1. Create art collage fodder and 2. Use that fodder in mixed media collage or book projects.

I debated. A school. Online. Basically videos from different mixed media artists who show you techniques on how to make collage fodder. After debating some more (ie, Will I have time to do this? I’m already super busy. It costs. Will I find enough time on a regular basis to warrant me actually signing up and paying for this school. How much will I have to spend on materials and supplies? BUT, I’ve always wanted to learn collage techniques, what am I waiting for? Now is the time, etc) I took the plunge and as you already know, signed up.

I am looking forward to learning. Yes, it’s one more thing on my plate, but it will be something I hopefully enjoy doing and that finding the time, supplies, etc won’t necessarily be a huge factor.

Art as self-care has been a theme for me the past couple weeks. I definitely don’t think this is walking the line of care vs. indulgence; it’s care, it’s learning, it’s growing, it’s self-improvement, it’s expanding and improving my creative techniques, it’s doing something I enjoy and hopefully it will lead to others enjoying what I create as well in the long run.

I have to ask myself Why too…not just for the reasons listed above, but Why in general am I throwing myself into my creative endeavors much more heartily than I have in the past, even the recent past.

I know that I’ve talked about it being a place of forgetting myself, and really, that’s exactly the reason.

Or more specifically I’m trying to forget that: The fact that my dad isn’t here anymore, that my husband and I are having fertility challenges, that there’s a pandemic on and that major political controversy and issues in the U.S. exist (And make me really angry. American ‘Christianity’, enough said)

As if one wasn’t enough.

Some of it is just the world we live in (Pandemic and political controversy), some of it is specific to my situation (My dad and ferticility challenges).

And so my creative endeavors seem to be my hiding place at this time in life. Throwing myself into making my Autumn book collection, mixed media collage, Fodder School, painting, even just going to the art supply store and browsing for a bit (And then buying what I came to get) is a safe, healing space for me during this time.

Why art and not something else? IDK. It’s just me. It’s just what I do. And that’s ok. For my husband, it’s sports. For me, art.

I’m thriving on little projects. Each weekend, or 10:30p at night, I’m up working on something. And then I start something new. And then something else.

I’m thankful for this healing space of creativeness in my life right now.

I wonder if it’s escapism, but honestly, right now, I don’t care if it is. It’s more soothing to my heart, mind and soul than anything. It may be me hiding away from cold hard facts of reality, but I don’t care if it is.

And who wouldn’t want to be in a soothing, comforting place where the worries and tensions and unpleasant realities of life don’t follow you?

It’s that secret space, where only I and God can come. Maybe it’s like those rooms that I mentioned in this post. I go into a room of His heart that only I can go, and then I create and make things and He calms me down and what comes out is a deeper relationship with Him, a sense of purpose and fulfillment to me, and something beautiful that I made.

Where is that place of self-forgetfulness for you? Is it art, or something else?

Surrendering

No one likes to surrender.

When you surrender, you lose.

‘Surrendering’ can be a buzz word in Christianity.

We need to ‘surrender all’ to the Lord Jesus Christ — body, mind, heart, soul, emotions, spirit.

We are not our own.

I’m not arguing that fact.

But still, no one likes to surrender.

It feels like giving up. Like you haven’t tried hard enough. Like you haven’t given enough. Like there is still more to do. Still more you can do. We can’t accept defeat. When you accept defeat, it’s over. There really is nothing more you can do except clean up the mess (And who wants to be a janitor?).

Life is really a life-long process of surrendering. In Christianity it’s the initial surrender of your life to Jesus – realizing Jesus’ atoning sacrifice and lordship and authority and gentleness and holiness and everything He is mixed up together in one fell swoop. It’s HIM. It’s Jesus and there’s nothing else.

Then, life hits and there’s more to surrender. You mean, God, that I have to surrender that and that and that and even…that?

Wait, what’d I sign up for?

But we surrender out of obedience (If after some internal wrestling and prayer convos with God) and we realize once again His lordship and perfect authorship in our lives.

And then, life Really Hits.

Or, really…hurts.

And I’m in that Really Hits and Really Hurting place right now.

My husband and I have tried everything we’ve known how to do to start a family and it. just. isn’t. happening.

(So far. Yet. I still have faith.)

I still have faith. I still have faith. I still have faith.

Faith is being sure of what we hope for — it’s the evidence of what we do not see, yes?

And I felt a couple of weeks ago, that I needed to be OK with not having kids.

Or in other words, ‘God, I am Your creation, You have me here for whatever purpose and for whatever reason. I am like a bird or a flower in Your sight. Infinitely precious, yet so finite. So limited. You are God, I am not. You see the big picture of my life, I do not. You see the end, the beginning and everything in between. You know what You’re doing, I, in my limited sight-distance, do not (Although I think I do). God, what does my life look like it my husband and I really don’t have kids, like, ever???? So I give it up to You. Again. But for real this time. And for real again. And again.’

In other words, Surrender.

This is hard. This is really, really hard.

This is tough. This is really, really tough.

There’s a line in the Shane & Shane’s song ‘Psalm 46 (Lord of All)‘ that has really helped me lately: ‘O God who knows the hearts of men and still you let them live / O God who makes the mountains melt come wrestle us and win’.

‘O GOD WHO MAKES THE MOUNTAINS MELT / COME WRESTLE US AND WIN’

No one likes to surrender.

But sometimes it’s the only choice.

And if you’re surrendering whatever it is to Jesus, then you really can’t lose.

Moderating Self-Care

Last week I posted about art being a form of self-care.

And since then, I’ve had a lot of thoughts revolving around that subject.

How self-care can potentially, and perhaps quickly, lead to self-indulgence (But really all in the name of taking care of yourself), and self-indulgence may lead to selfishness, which is not good for anyone, let alone yourself (The opposite of what we’re trying to do here).

Where is this fine line of self-care vs self-indulgence?

It’s probably different for everyone.

You know yourself, where is that line for you?

I’m still discovering where that line is for me. Now that I’ve started to change my mindset about how I view my creativity in this season of my life, I’ve started thinking of it ALL as self-care.

I need to take this virtual video course to learn a new technique, I need a certain tool for my next project, I have to spend this amount of time making and creating, etc.

When, in reality, do I really need to learn a new technique (Nothing bad in that, in fact it’s good, it’s just how many techniques do I need to learn at once?) or do I really, really, really need that new tool?

Perhaps not.

It is worth bearing in mind that, as the saying goes, ‘everything in moderation’, even with art as a form of self-care.

Art as Self-Care

I was talking to someone yesterday about how I sometimes, often times, struggle to find time to pursue my art and creative interests.

With all my other activities (Part-time job, house, husband, family events, volunteer work, small biz), it can be difficult to set aside time to work on things that I really WANT to work on, ie, creative self-expression, ideas, etc.

And it’s highly frustrating for me because I really, really, really DO want to work on my art and creative calling.

The person who I was talking to was like, ‘When you’re in that place of making and creating, you probably feel like you forget all your stress, depression, worries and anxiety. You probably feel like it gives you a real sense of purpose.’

Yes. Yes. Definitely.

When I work on my books, designing a book cover, dabbling in mixed media collaging, working on a new aromatherapy blend or what it is I’m doing at the moment, I lose myself. It’s a place of self-forgetfulness.

The worry, stress, tension of the day, or yesterday or the week, melts away and I am absorbed in the project in front of me. I’m working on my ideas and they’re not stuck in my head any more.

I’m sure there are plenty of studies out there that show how therapeutic hobbies can be, how therapeutic crafting can be, how therapeutic art itself is.

Hence, people pursue degrees and careers in art therapy. It’s a thing.

The person I was talking with mentioned that me ‘making things’, being in that creative space, was really a form of self-care, equal to eating (We have to eat), sleeping (We have to sleep), exercising (We have choices on that one, but yes, I do it), caring for our physical being, etc.

Putting it that way, that art is really a form of self-care for me, personally, in this season of life, was very helpful.

Often I see it more as something I want to make a career out of. What I would like to do as a ‘job’.

Although I can easily lose myself in it, for me the end result is a product that I can sell. I’m not personally going to use all the journals I make. There’s no way.

By switching my mindset, that right now my art is really just a integral part of my weekly self-care routine, it puts it in a different light.

It becomes necessary.

It is necessary.

It is necessary for my mental and emotional health.

Sometimes when I’m working I feel guilty…like maybe there are other, more important things I ‘should’ be doing.

And yeah, maybe there are.

But right now, THIS is what I’m doing. I’m working on my craft and I’m focused and purposeful and I’m saying yes to my calling as a child of God made in the image of The One Who Created and Who Continues to Create.

Trying to fend of nagging feelings of guilt while I’m working can be difficult. Seeing my art as a form of self-care helps to put those thoughts in their proper place.

It’s still ok for me to list my journals on a site like Etsy after I make them, but cease worrying, at this point, about Why They’re Not Selling, or whatever my angst about it is and really just focus on them as a form of personal self-care (Not self-indulgence, but care).

And for you, my friend. Have you thought about your art as being a form of self-care for your heart, mind and emotions? I’d love to know what you think. Peace.