Telling a tale

I wrote a kids' story this morning. The idea came to me while I was taking a shower this morning and coalesced as I ate breakfast. By the time I made a cup of tea, I'd written it all down. It's just the first draft--there's a lot of editing I have to do now--but it's the one of the few times I've actually finished a story. Usually I have great beginnings and no idea how to create a satisfactory ending. I don't know how many times I've gotten inspiration for a story, wrote a few pages and then had it fizzle out in my head. It's like one of those dud fireworks--shooting up into the air with a bang....and nothing happens. Just a big pile of failure.

Since I was little, I've always read voraciously, I know a good story when I see one. I wasn't interested in writing some derivative dreck or copying someone else's style. If I'm going to write something, I want it to be my voice telling the tale. There are authors I enjoy greatly, and one of the things in common among them all is that their individual voices comes through strong and clear. Neil Gaiman, Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, Tamora Pierce, Madeleine L' Engle....I could go on.

I know I have stories of my own to tell...but I didn't feel like I had anything special to say until very recently. I've created blogs over the years, only to give up on them after a while. I wrote angsty poetry in high school about boys and deep emotions; journaled intensely during college, coming to terms with my chronic health issues and riding the roller coaster of a tumultuous relationship. Blogspot, Xanga, Myspace, Deviantart, Facebook, and now Blogspot again have all played host to my musings and declarations over the years. But that's just cataloging my life, sharing what's going on within my heart and mind. But I've always wanted to write and publish a book....about something.

It's been one of my lifelong dreams to write a children's story, but there was never anything cohesive that came to mind. An idea here, a scrap of a character there. I never had been hit with any inspiration until just last month. I now have sketches for a kids' series stacked in my bedroom. I have two main characters and have been figuring out who they are and how they relate to each other. I have the basic elements and need to flesh them out. There's a general direction but no clear story yet. That one is going to be like a painting that refuses to coalesce until I put a lot of effort and time into it.

Today however was a different story. Like a flash of lightning, I saw the first line: "Thomas Doorit was a naughty little boy who loved destroying good books." And then I had an ending right away too! I quickly scribbled out the story on some notebook paper, my thoughts going faster than my pen. It's already transcribed into Word so I don't lose it, and will lend itself to easier editing that way. The working title for now is "Thomas Doorit gets his comeuppance." It relates to books and classic literature, but I'm not going to give the ending away here. I think I actually have something this time. I even know what kind of illustration style I want and someone in mind to create them for me.

I'm really excited about this book, and I'll be sure to post more about it as I go.

Sketching 10

Investigating microbiology organisms more. They're always so colorful in textbooks too.

Jewelry ideas

I've been asked by many different people whether I make jewelry. I never really felt any inspiration because most of my ideas had already been done and much better than I could do. But I've sketched out lots of ideas. I drew some recently that I decided to try to actually make.

I get a lot of my inspiration at work

Cardboard is plentiful at my job, so that's the material I chose for my first go at it. It's easy to work with and if something doesn't work out, it's not a huge loss.

Attempt 2

Attempt 1

I wore this one at work the next day.

I figured out that I need to paint both sides--more mileage out of the same piece! Also, I'm going to coat these in resin so they're more durable. I wore the second necklace all day at work, and it held up really well.

It was really fun playing around, and I'm definitely going to make more! 

Grateful

Life can change so quickly for the better.
I was sitting here and it just hit me how blessed I am right now. Awed gratitude is the only response that I can give to God. Flowery praise and poignant prose really can't do it justice. I am blown away at God's goodness and grace. For some reason it's really hitting me tonight.

Within the last week or two, I have realized that God was preparing me 10 years ago to be the person I am today. Specific prayers I said as a 15 year old are now coming to fruition in my life. I could never have imagined what the answers to those prayers would look like, how God would bless me so greatly.

In 2002, I was just beginning the process of facing the tough stuff from my past. I was painfully shy, awkward and withdrawn. I felt removed from my peers, so different and alone. I struggled with so much fear and doubt and shame and self-degradation. I wondered if I would ever be able to truly be myself, the person I knew I was deep down. I didn't know yet that I had muscular dystrophy--I just thought I was klutzy. I couldn't foresee the tumultuous long-distance dating relationship I'd have during college. I didn't even have my driver's license yet! I'd barely begun to delve into being an artist. The thought of coherently and logically writing my thoughts and emotions like this would have been impossible. I was a teenager, full of zeal and little life experience.

Now it's 2012. I thought I'd have my life all figured out by the time I was 22, let alone 25. I've come so far though--I'm a completely different person from the Elisabeth that asked God for peace and freedom that fateful July night. I consider July 11th my spiritual birthday, because that's the night I reached the end of my rope and cried desperately out to God. And He answered. And my life was completely changed. Now, so much to be grateful for, even the so-called "little things." Even though I now wear leg braces and struggle some days with being so tired, I understand that God has used it to make me stronger. I can now talk about the "dark stuff," because I see how God has worked through it for good. I have an amazing boyfriend who loves Jesus and accepts me--all of me--and encourages me to seek after the Lord. I have friends who "get" me. I don't feel adrift anymore; I've found my place. And even though I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, I know God is in charge. And seeing some of His plan unfold has been pretty cool.

Sketching 9

I drew this in church last Sunday. There was a lady sitting in front of me wearing a really cool crocheted shirt,  and I just had to make sure I remembered the part of the pattern I really liked. I never know where inspiration will strike, that's why I always carry a small sketchbook with me.  

Sketching 8

I think thoughts of summer were swimming in my head when I colored this in  a while back. And now it's hot here, so I'm wishing it were cooler again. Oh how fickle we Minnesotans can be when it comes to our weather!

Collage 3

More collage fun! 

Collage 2

Same collage, two different color choices. Sometimes I just like to see if the composition holds up if I take the colors away. Color can distract from poor layout. I actually like both of these a lot--the colored one for the bright popping hues, and the sepia one just has a completely different feel even though it's the same image.

Alternative healthcare

I had my first acupuncture experience today. The cynical, instant gratification side of me wants to label it woo woo quackery, and just go to the doctor and get a bunch of pills to fix things right now (what do you mean, "cumulative effect?" I have to do this more than once for it to do something? That's just...un-American!). But then I remind myself that I thought the exact same thing about chiropractic care before I started getting my back adjusted several years ago.

Looks freaky, but it doesn't hurt at all

And the thing with taking painkillers, it just masks the problem, it doesn't actually resolve the issue. I've come to realize, if my body hurts, there's a reason why it's hurting. Shocking, I know. In our modern society, we're just used to always taking a pill whenever something aches or feels out of the ordinary. Once the pain goes away, we think the problem's solved. In reality, we've just treated the symptom, but not taken care of the root cause.

As someone living with an undiagnosed form of muscular dystrophy, I know how little help regular doctors can be at times. I've ridden the medical merry-go-round of tests and more tests that only told me what I don't have. But that doesn't help me live my everyday life. It's my body, I want to take care of it, and sometimes that means stepping out of the box, moving beyond my preconceived notions and prejudices. I'm not going to go off the deep end and throw all caution to the wind, but I am willing to try something a little unorthodox if it's going to help me be healthier.

Over the last few years, I've incorporated some elements of what's labeled "alternative" healthcare into my life. I see a chiropractor once a month to help maintain good alignment in my back and neck (essential when you're on your feet all day working in retail). Also once a month, I get a nice hour long massage (very relaxing, and helps my muscles from tightening up too much). I took an adapted yoga class for about six months (also super relaxing, and helped me pay attention to maintaining good posture and balance). And I feel really good lately--I haven't been majorly sick in a long time.

But if I get a sinus infection or pneumonia, yes, I'm going to go to the clinic and see my doctor and get antibiotics to take care of it. I'm not going to stop seeking medical care--that's pretty ludicrous in my eyes. But trying these alternative things in addition to regular check-ups has helped me immensely. It just takes a little more patience and self-discipline than popping a few pills.

So now I'm trying out acupuncture. I've heard it can help with chronic pain (it's a low grade ache, but it still sucks) and tinnitus (can you say highly annoying?). The guy I saw is highly certified and was suggested by my excellent massage therapist. I get that it's not a magic bullet, and I'm not going to feel instantly fantastic. It was definitely relaxing though, and you pretty much don't feel the needles at all--they're very tiny. I got an herbal mixture to drink to help with digestion (I've lost some weight over the last six months, which is not good when you're already underweight and weak). So, we'll see how I feel in a few weeks. I'm guessing it's going to help in some way, based on past experiences with other things I was initially highly skeptical of. If it improves my quality of life, I don't really care whether it's Western or Eastern style medicine.

There are certain "alternative" things I will never be convinced to try, however. The Mooncup being one of those (go on, Google it; you know you want to). In this case, I'm very happy to stick with the standard operating procedure on that one.

Collage 1

A pen pal friend of mine sent me a small sketchbook to fill up and send back to him. It's kind of like what I did with the Sketchbook Project a couple years ago, except this is just for one person. I haven't gotten very far on this book though--life has gotten surprisingly full of late, in a good way.

Anyways, this is a collage I put together earlier today (it's page 19, so it's not like I've been completely slacking off). I usually make pretty detailed, complex collages, so it's fun to try to make very pared down, simple ones. I've always enjoyed creating these--I find it very relaxing, especially all the time it takes to cut out all the pictures. People sometimes just assume it's a print or something I've put together in Photoshop, because I can make the edges really seamless. Nope, all done by hand. I've just given myself a lot of practice over the years cutting very delicately with scissors and exacto blades.

Sketching 7

These drawings were definitely influenced by the sermon I was listening to at church that day. It's two different visual interpretations of what I was mulling over as my pastor spoke. I think it's pretty obvious what was being talked about.

Sketching 6

I've been playing around recently with incorporating elements of microbiology into my work. I get my best inspiration while sitting in church actually.

A complete 180

My natural inclination is towards being an island, never being weak or putting myself in a place to depend or rely on someone to come through for me. So many fears and doubts swirled in me for many years--about relying on people, opening up my heart and risking being hurt, letting others matter and speak into my life...it just seemed so dangerous after having gotten my heart beat up and toyed with over the years. I was angry and dissatisfied and bitter, not just about romantic relationships, but any kind of friendship. I always kept some part of myself in reserve, holding myself at arm's length...just in case. I just expected others to fail, to leave, to not reach out. The other shoe was always just waiting to drop, and I was never surprised when it did, and a friendship would just fizzle out after a couple years. I wasn't pessimistic, I said, just realistic. If you have no expectations, you're not surprised when people fail you. That's why I always held something back--it hurts too much if you let your heart be vulnerable. That's such a risk to let yourself be open to getting hurt like that. I know what it's like to have a shattered heart, sweeping the broken pieces up and trying to put yourself back together. I didn't ever want to feel that way again.

So, I was always a bit aloof, a little removed from those around me, never trying too hard to hang onto any friendship. The only person I thought I could really rely on was myself. I settled into my daily life over the last couple years, a routine of work and making art and reading books and going to church--quite happy and content on my lonesome. I was burned pretty badly from my last relationship and had no desire to seek out dating at all. To me, it just felt like a pointless game. I was content with my friends and family. In 2011 though, God impressed on me that I really needed to make relationships a priority in my life, make an effort to reach out and cultivate friendships, both old and new. I was tired of never truly being myself, never opening all the way. I was done with living in fear of what might happen. I was never fully in the present, in the here and now, because I was still letting the past breath over my shoulder and determine my actions for the future. I had to let go of what has happened, not obsess over what might be, and just dwell in what is. It's so freeing to commit to the present and let go of old fears, trusting God to lead me true.

For 2012, I have the theme, "Be bold," ringing through my heart and mind. God doesn't want me to stay where it's comfortable; He wants me to step out into the unknown and risk a little bit. How can I really have faith if I never rely on God to come through for me, if I always have a back-up plan to rescue myself? I have to let go, step off the cliff, and trust that if God is who He says He is, He's not going to let me crash on the rocks below. I wrote about some of this process recently, and how my heart has healed and opened up again. This past month or so has just blown my socks off. The pessimistic side of me keeps waiting for something bad to happen...but it hasn't.

This has become a season of joy and excitement in my life. New experiences, fresh insight and inspiration, much encouragement and happiness, falling hopelessly in love, getting all mushy and sappy....I have never felt so cherished, treasured and respected in my life. My boyfriend, Colin, just fills me with such joy. He is super sweet and kind and loving, encouraging me in my faith and walk with God, accepting me as I am with all my kookiness and strangeness. He makes me want to be a better person--not because I feel like I need to be perfect, present some kind of facade...but because I am loved and free to open my heart. And he doesn't think he's doing anything special!

I know he's not perfect, and he isn't trying to be. We're both very open about being sinful people in a fallen world. We both know that without Jesus, we're hopeless and lost. But I do know that God has been directing my steps over the last several years, preparing my heart. Everything I've been through--the good and especially the bad--has been leading me here. I'm willing to step out of my comfort zone, shake up my daily routine....risk my heart and be open to love.

It might sound sappy or whatever, but life without real love is pretty lonely. I don't want to be an island.

But I did it my way

Every time someone tells me I can't do something or I have to do such-and-such in a particular way to be successful, I just want to prove them wrong. There's a part of me that exclaims, "Well, why?! Why do I have to do it that way? I'm going to do it how I want-and work harder at it-just to prove you wrong!" That side of me gets such a thrill out of doing things differently and making it work out anyways.

I'm quietly contrary, I guess. I don't argue to someone's face, I just go off and work at proving them wrong. Talk is easy and cheap. Actions back up and confirm my point. For example, I felt pressured by my advisor to apply to graduate school right away after completing my under-grad degree at Northwestern. I was burned out on school, and especially so after my last semester when I was working 40 hours a week and going to college. I got the impression that he thought that if I didn't go on right away for further education, I wouldn't amount to anything. I just wasn't interested in that path. I was like, "Why can't I simply keep making art on my own? I don't need a master's to be an artist. I'm just going to get my work out there!" And that's what I did: I applied to a bunch of calls for art, created business cards, made a point to carry CDs with my artwork and resume on them in my purse at all times. Within a year of graduating, I had work in 8 different art shows. Would I have been as motivated if someone hadn't told me that I was supposed to go about being an artist a different way? I don't know, but it definitely put a little extra fire in me to try harder and push myself further.

It's the same with my faith sometimes. I've always chafed under people telling me what I'm "supposed" to believe and do, how I'm "supposed" to be a Christian, a godly woman. There are so many voices out there who think they know exactly how everyone else is supposed to act--they've got the rules laid out, in detail, in their numerous books on how to live a better life/be a better Christian/be a 'real' woman/blah blah blah. It boils down to "This is what you're supposed to do. And if you don't, you're not really a Christian." That's legalism, not the freedom the Bible talks about. It's made me question things more, ask myself why I'm doing a particular thing--is it because I feel genuinely convicted to do it...or is it because I'm checking off a religious to-do list, trying to please others and not focusing on glorifying God? It's one thing for people I respect and love to speak into my life and point out error--I need that! It's another thing when you get blanket statements about how everyone is "supposed" to be.

For a time, I questioned and stepped back from all the "basics"--reading the Bible, praying, going to church. I knew I should do these things, but why? I knew it's what Christians are "supposed" to do...but that's not much of a motivation at the end of the day. I felt very aimless for a couple years, because I had to come to a conclusion for myself, not based on what everyone else says, but decide for me who I was going to be and how I would live out this thing called faith.
Eventually, I did make up my mind about all of it. I read my Bible pretty much daily, I pray a lot, I go to church every Sunday I don't have to work. But it's not because I'm "supposed" to, it's because I genuinely desire to.

I'm just pig headed that way, I suppose. Part of being such an independent person is that I question everything (sometimes to my detriment). I don't take things at face value--I don't want to know simply the "what" but the "why" as well. I have reasons behind everything I do. Empty actions are just so pointless to me. I guess it's that I want my whole life to have meaning and thoughtful purpose behind it. And simply jumping because someone says I should rubs me the wrong way.

Sketching 5

Another page from my little sketchbook that I keep in my purse. The markers I use bleed through the pages a lot of the time, which sometimes influences what I draw on the next page.

Back to the future

A little over four years ago, the future I'd been planning was completely destroyed. All my plans and intentions went up in smoke. For a good two years, I'd been going along with a particular idea of how things were going to unroll in my life....and then it all came crashing down.

And I'm so glad it did. Though at the time, it really sucked going through it.

March 2008: I broke up with my cheating ex, cut off all my hair, and went on a spring break road trip to New Mexico and Utah. It was the perfect way to process a break up--just miles of open road and the time to reflect and decompress. I had almost two weeks of quiet and peace, time to think and let go, finding some solace and healing out in the grandeur of the West. You really can't help but feel a sense of calm wash over you when you're sitting on the edge of a cliff, with nothing but the sound of wind in your ears, and no sign of civilization for miles and miles.

I felt as if I had lost sight of God, and he'd stripped away everything that I'd been leaning on or distracting myself with to get me to look at Him again. I couldn't use homework or checking Facebook or talking on the phone or doing busywork...nothing....there were no distractions. I came face-to-face with who I really was out there. There was nothing I could do--I had to just be. It was just me, and the wind, and harsh beauty of the land...and God. Speaking to me in a still small voice that I'd been tuning out for a while.

One of my friends joked later that I had gone on a vision quest, and I couldn't really disagree. I had a couple unusual encounters along the way that reminded me that God was still there for me (maybe I'll share them someday). I went on a few hikes by myself, and the utter quiet I experienced out in that wilderness didn't leave when I came back to Minnesota. That sense of peace, so lonely yet comforting, so weighty yet freeing, settled in my heart and has never left. It's impossible to adequately convey the way I felt the presence of God out in the desert, but I was changed in a very deep way that I can't really describe.  It was just what I needed at the time. It was as if God was telling me, "Everything will be okay, Elisabeth. Your problems aren't as big as you think. Let Me comfort and heal your bruised heart."

"Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her." Hosea 2:14

But then I had to come back home again. Back to school, back to my friends and family, back to every day life. But I didn't know who I was anymore. So much of myself, who I was, had gotten wrapped up in this one person, this one relationship, this one idea of how my life was going to go. I had to redefine myself. I realized that I'd been basing my identity and worth as a person on another human being. I mean, it wasn't like I had no sense of self, but I hadn't realized until that trip how much I'd changed who I was just to please my ex. That was a very healthy and needed thing to go through...but then I was faced with the fact that I had no clue what I was supposed to do with my life next.

Everything that I'd been thinking and planning for about two years had been pointed towards getting married and moving to Maryland and having this whole life out east. That all disappeared, and I had to find my footing again. It was like all these ties had been cut, and I was suddenly free....with no direction or leading.

And as healing and comforting as my road trip had been, there were still areas that really hurt. I shut down some parts of my heart, because I just felt like a fool and an idiot. I should have known better! I was like, "Guys--who needs 'em? Pffft."

And I went on with finishing up that school year, having fun with my friends, working on art, renewing my relationship with God. Over the next couple years, I moved back home, revitalized my connections with my family, got a job at Half Price, graduated college, bought a car, worked on building some artistic notoriety, just living life. But I didn't really think too hard about what might come next, I just took life as it came. "Why make long term plans when it might blow up in your face?" a part of me asked. And no way was I interested in dating. It still stung if I thought about it too much. I just decided I would happily be single the rest of my life and that was that.

But I didn't want to stay in a holding pattern, settling into a rut. Not only in daily living and work, I also realized I needed to make my faith a priority and not half-ass it. I begrudgingly decided to look for a church, but I wasn't going to like it. I knew God wanted me to get plugged in somewhere, but I wasn't too enthused about the prospect. I'd listened to Mark Driscoll sermons off and on throughout college, but I really started listening to them, actually trying to apply what I was hearing and learning. And one thing he really emphasizes is being in community with other Christians. Like, all the time, in practically every message I heard. I finally was like, "Fine. Fine! Okay, I will look for a church. But I'm not too excited about this, God. And if I don't like it, I'm not going back." I looked online to see if there were any Acts 29 churches in Minneapolis, kinda hoping there wasn't so I could make more excuses. There are four. And they are all close-ish to where I live. There was even one like ten minutes away. Crap. I wasn't going to get out of this so easy.

So I went to Antioch Community Church....and loved it. The people were (and are) awesome. I got connected with a community group. I've made friends, not just interacted with people who only talk to me on Sunday. I feel like I've found my place. And God's really been working on my heart the last six months or so, reminding me not to hold back in fear, to be open to new possibilities, to look to Him for guidance and not going back to my old way of living and thinking. He doesn't want me to keep my heart shut, because I'm scared of what might happen. I can't, and don't want to, live life that way.

I've been thinking recently of how God spoke to my heart in the desert when I was bruised and hurting. He gave me peace and reassurance when I had none and felt so empty. I had nothing to give, but God met me where I was at and didn't let me wallow and have a pity party. He reminded me that everything else can fall away, but He will always be there. I can be completely alone, yet He will never leave  me. I am His and will never be forsaken, though I may stumble through darkness and doubt. I have nothing to offer, yet He is happy to give everything and fill me with hope and grace and love.

And I've reflected on how God's been speaking to me over the last four years as I've matured and realigned myself with Him. He's been teaching me to tune my heart to his voice, however He chooses to speak with me--from a penny on the ground to a book coming along just when I need to read what it says to a sunny day spent with friends to the messages I hear at church. I don't get to choose how God works, I just have to be open and expectant for Him to come through for me.

And now....something new and completely unexpected has come my way. I wasn't looking or searching for it. I wasn't praying about it. I was just going about my life, and now this. There's this guy...and he's pretty awesome. And he thinks I'm kinda awesome too. It's like finding a little seedling popping up from the ground in spring where you didn't know anything was even planted. The future is all up in the air again. I have no idea what the future holds. And I have never been happier about uncertainty in my life.

I am so excited to see what's going to happen next....

Sketching 4

The blue scribbles in the background are words--actually a prayer. When I talk to God, I have a hard time staying focused sometimes, so I like to write down what I'm thinking to stay on track. However, there are times when I don't want any legible writing left for anyone else to be able to read. It's a private conversation between me and Jesus. But I do want a record of it in some form to jog my memory. So, I write across the page normally, then I turn my sketchbook and write going another direction. I keep doing this until it's illegible and I've gotten everything off my chest. It's very cathartic actually. I might not even remember later what exactly was on my mind, but I remember that I talked to God about it and He knows what I scrawled across the page.
I don't usually go back and add anything else, but I was sitting in church doodling the other day (like usual) and saw the outline of this shape.

Rid of my disgrace

Oh, man, talk about spiritual attack Tuesday. I was originally planning to write something chipper and upbeat ....but I have been feeling pretty weighted down today. Emotions, thoughts and feelings that haven't surfaced in a long while have all reared their heads. It's a bit overwhelming to be honest. Every time I think I'm done with stuff from my past, that I've overcome it all and will never have to think about it again....I get my knees kicked out from under me, and I'm flat on my back...again. And it's easier to stay down than fight my way back up for the umpteenth time, because there's just so much to face and it takes so much work.

In the past when something like today would happen, I'd feel completely off kilter for days. Just not being able to shake it off, feeling like I was drowning under all the old accusations and helplessness. I would get in a funk, because I'd listen to those things instead of pushing back. At the time, I didn't know how to fight back and win. It just felt like it was futile, because I believed what was running through my head was true.

"You're worthless. Disgusting. Nothing will ever change. You're unloved, unwanted, something to be used and discarded....If you were really a Christian, you wouldn't feel this way, struggle this much....You're dirty, defiled, garbage....This is all your fault....No one else could possibly understand, and if you told anyone, they would be disgusted by you. Who would want to be your friend, if they truly knew you? You can't trust anyone. You will always be alone."

And on it would go. I'd just want to curl up under the covers and hope that it would all go away. It was all so heavy and dark.....and it felt like I was choking on fear and shame. I thought all of that was flowing out of my own heart.

Now the thing you should notice, what I wrote above are all you statements. I never caught on to this. Who ever really addresses themselves in the second person? I would go from, "I feel sad and ashamed," to, "You're shameful and pathetic." The first is an appropriate response to sexual abuse, but the second is not. It goes from "I was sinned against," to, "It's all your fault." You want help and healing, but think you don't deserve it because you begin to believe you brought it on yourself somehow. These malicious thoughts come into your mind and you just accept them, never even considering that they're not from you.

So, today--well, actually starting last night when I went to bed, I was feeling the weight of some past regrets. Things I shouldn't have done, words I should have said instead, and compromises I made to my standards and convictions. I was thanking God for forgiving and redeeming my sin, wiping away my tears, creating a new heart and a new mind in me. But all of sudden, I was just slammed with these accusatory phrases. And I started wallowing, getting pulled completely off track. I went from, "That is who I once was--I'm truly repentant over the things I did wrong, God, and thank you for forgiving me and not choosing to hold my sin against me. I regret this and am feeling the weight of the wrong, but I know you love me," to, "You're a horrible person and always will be. You are undeserving of love. You haven't changed and never will." And shame started wrapping itself around me.

But. I'm not the same person I was ten years ago. And I realized that this wasn't coming from me. So, I did something that I didn't know how to do before when I was younger: I fought back the right way. "God, this isn't me and it's not how you see me. You have freed me from shame, from disgrace, from guilt. Yes, that's how I once felt, but that's not truth. This isn't true. You know who I truly am. Remind me of my identity in you and your love and grace. I am not alone--you are with me, and I have people I can turn to. I am loved. I will not give into shame and hide away. I am renewed, redeemed, beloved by you, God. I'm facing this and I know it's not me." (This video says it even better.)

And after a few minutes of praying, it was like a switch got flipped and those thoughts were gone from my head. Wow. It worked. And I slept through the night without a single bad dream (I've been having those lately).

This morning, those feelings came rushing back again, which isn't surprising. I've been confronting and praying against them through the day. I was looking at my tattoo earlier to remind myself that God is always there for me, even when the darkness comes. God's been reminding me today that my emotions don't define my faith and life. No matter what I'm currently feeling or remembering, God is good and He will never leave me bereft and broken. I'm not the same person I once was, because of His grace and mercy and love. I'm not bound to old ways of thinking and feeling.

This is me now. I don't care that it's kind of a crappy sketch, it illustrates perfectly who I am in Jesus.

Sketching 3

Another fun doodle. 

Sketching 2

This is a relaxation exercise for me. I scribble over the whole page really fast, then go back and color it in.

A very good birthday

It was my birthday this past Saturday. It's kinda weird to think I'm 25 now. When I was in my teens, I thought I'd have my life all figured out by the time I was 22.....three years later, and I still don't know what I'm going to be when I grow up!

But this post is not about existential musing and pondering. I want to share about what a great week I had and how glad I am that I got to relax and spend time with my family (even though I see them all the time since I live at home...). I feel like I can be too "down" and serious on here at times, so I'm going to focus on all the good stuff I did the last seven days. :)

As an aside, I can nitpick about the things I don't like about work, but one of the things I appreciate a lot about Half Price is vacation days accrue and roll over from year to year. So, I've got a decent amount saved up and decided to just take a week off before it gets really crazy (besides the month between Thanksgiving and Christmas, June-September is our busy time of year). And everyone at work wants to take a vacation during the warm months to enjoy a little bit of summer. I didn't have to fight anyone to take a week off at the end of March. And I didn't feel as bad about being gone, because stuff wasn't piling up quite as bad as it will be in the middle of July.

Originally I was planning to buckle down and work hard core on art every day....but that didn't really end up happening. I did get some art making in, but I mostly just read, ran errands that had been piling up and drove around to various fun activities.

Monday, I read most of the day and then went to my weekly yoga class in the evening.

Tuesday is my regular day off, because I volunteer that day in the afternoon with Free Arts MN at Earl Brown Elementary doing art projects with kindergartners. That's always a highlight of my week. You can be feeling like crap when you walk in there, but by the time it's done, you feel amazing. The kids just run in and give hugs and high fives and just love that you're there to make art with them. We can do what I think is a simple project and they'll absolutely love it. It's a good reminder for me to enjoy the little things in life.

In the evening, I had my church community group over at my house for dinner. Everyone brought a dish to share, and we just hung out, ate and talked for two hours. The most interesting item that someone brought was a bag of oranges.

Wednesday was a pretty full day: In the morning I met with one of my pastors and another person from my church at Wilde Roast Cafe for my membership interview. It's not like a job interview, but just to check that you're not some wing-nut whack job or something. It's a good way for the pastors to get to know new people better, hear their stories and learn what people's passions and interests are. Also, Wilde Roast is awesome--they have the best chai tea I've ever tasted.

After my interview, I had to book it over to Juut Salon Spa in Roseville. A friend from church with curly hair that always looks great gets her hair cut there, so I thought I'd check it out. I've never actually been to a salon before, so I was a little leery. But it was awesome! The guy who did my hair loves curly hair and actually knows how to cut it properly. We had a great conversation about tattoos, hair, and other random topics. He was super cool and just really nice--he did not give me crap at all about the fact that I don't get my hair cut every six weeks or whatever. He just kept gushing about how gorgeous my hair is and that he wants to be the only one to cut my hair from now on. It's always nice to be genuinely complimented. :) And he styled my hair really nice, because I was going to go renew my driver's license after my appointment. Now that's good service! I definitely felt fantastic when I walked into the DMV later.

Thursday, I went over to Beloved to chat with one of my tattoo artists for a little bit and check out the art in their gallery. I continued the art trend that night when my Mom, Andrew and I went to the Walker to see their current exhibit, Likelike. (fyi, the Walker is free on Thursdays after 5pm) We took a detour to the Wedge co-op for dessert afterwards. I pretty much only ever buy snacks and junk food there!

Friday was another day of driving around: From St. Louis Park to have my leg braces adjusted, to New Hope to get my tires rotated, then home. Later, my Mom took Andrew and I downtown Minneapolis to Macy's flower show. It's starting to become a tradition, because the show always falls right around my birthday. We ooh and ahh over the flowers, wandering through the beautiful colors and taking in all the wonderful smells, then head downstairs to the candy counter. Yes, an old fashioned candy counter where you can buy treats in bulk or individually. They sell really good chocolate, and something is always on sale when we're there. I'm actually savoring one of my birthday truffles right now! :)

Saturday started out with a wonderful surprise: My Dad handed me an envelope and wished me a happy birthday. Inside were two tickets to see Celtic Woman on Sunday night!! I absolutely love their music and have been saying for years that I would really like to see them live. I was completely floored--I had absolutely no clue they were in town and never would have guessed that my parents would buy me tickets to see them! I'm not one to overly display my emotions, but I was over the moon! I couldn't wait for Sunday night to come, that's for sure!

But I also had some fun things planned for Saturday too: My Mom and I went shopping together, which I always enjoy getting to hang out with her one-on-one. In the evening, Leah, Andrew and I went to the Brave New Workshop to see The Danger Committee's latest show, Love and Other Painful Mistakes. They perform at the MN Ren Fest as well and are my favorite act to see there. To describe, it doesn't sound that cool, but they're awesome.

Juggling, knife throwing, comedy, potential disaster. What more could you want?

After their show, the guys answered the audience's questions, and it was just really cool to hear some of the things that go on behind the scenes. We were also able to catch some free improv just upstairs too. I definitely got my money's worth for an evening full of entertainment. I haven't laughed that hard since I watched A Very Potter musical with my friend, Holly--which means I almost peed my pants.

So, Sunday--church in the morning, which is always a treat. Then off to a baby shower for my cousin's wife who's due in May. It was great to hang out with some fun relatives and coo over cute baby things.
And then, after dressing up a little, because why not?....my Dad whisked me off to Celtic Woman.

I love Celtic music--I adore these ladies' singing.

And it was absolutely magical. I really can't describe it, I enjoyed it so much. I loved everything--the set, the lights, the gorgeous dresses, the dancing...but their voices...WOW. It's one thing to listen to them on TV or online, but in person it's absolutely phenomenal! My Dad and I were both grinning and just had a great time. Words just can't do justice to how I felt and how much I loved it and getting to share the experience with my Dad. I felt treasured and blessed and loved and celebrated. It was the perfect gift and will be a very treasured memory. So, yeah, my Dad is awesome (he even dressed up, because he knew I'd appreciate it). And my Mom had a hand in it too, because she sounded me out without me even remembering that she'd asked. It was the perfect finish to my birthday week.

Envisioning the future

I'm in the middle of a week off from work right now and have been taking the time to think about what's next for me. I thought it'd be good to devote some time to sit down, look at what I've been doing the last couple years and where I want to be headed in the next 12 months.

I enjoy creating art and trying out new ideas in my paintings, but it's incredibly difficult to pay the bills from that. And I have zero interest in being a graphic designer (which apparently, according to some people, is the only "real job" you can get if you're interested in art). I really love teaching, but it hasn't been a consistent gig for me. And I'd start to feel claustrophobic after awhile, being in a classroom every day. I like a little more variety. Thoughts like this have been running through my head with more frequency, and I was just feeling frustrated trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. 

It's easy in the midst of day-to-day life and work to just go from task to task and lose sight of my passions. I need to remind myself to keep my goals big and not condense my plans to a little bubble. I hadn't realized how small and unfocused my world had gotten lately until I started reading through this book a few days ago:

And I got some For Dummies titles too

It's been really eye opening so far, just writing down my values and what I like and don't like doing. I'm one of those people who enjoys making lists and filling my head with all kinds of informational tidbits. What I'm not so good at is actually doing something with all of that material. There's not much point to learning something new and insightful if it doesn't change anything about your life. I can't just keep writing down and talking about what I hope to do or want to pursue. I've actually got to put my plans into action. There is so much wasted potential in this world, and I don't want to be one of those people who could have done something great but was too lazy or scared to try.

But the hard part has been visualizing what I want to do with my passions and interests. It's all well and good to say, "I want to do something I enjoy," but without a goal to pursue, there's no direction or drive behind it. I also like having money, so I want a job that I can actually support myself with. But there's so many different avenues I could go down and particular passions I could pursue. However, I don't want to isolate just one facet of myself; I'd really like to involve all my strengths and interests.

So the exercise I did this morning was especially insightful. In Chapter 5, you're asked to write out your day five years from now. And it starts with simple things, seemingly mundane moments: What time do you wake up? What's your bedroom look like? What do you see when you look out the window? What do you hear?
At first, you think, "What does this have to do with a job, finding the career I want to pursue?" But as you go through the questions, you realize that you can't just compartmentalize your life into separate segments--"Work" over here, "Home" over there, one not affecting the other.

I ended up typing a whole page and haven't even answered every question so far. And as I was mulling over the answers, I was really struck with how small and safe I've been living my life lately.

I say I believe in a big God, and yet how does my life reflect that? I say I want my life to be like Jesus'....but do I really?  I settle for surfing the Internet and browsing Facebook, filling hours with nothing of importance, making excuses: "I'm too tired...I'll get to that tomorrow....Next week will be better to finish that...I'm not in the mood right now...Oh, that's so much work, I don't know if I can do that..." and blah blah blah.

Do I really, truly believe that God is Who He says He is? If I'm honest with myself, I know what Jesus said his followers' lives should look like...but I'm not living it. Life is not easy, I know that, but am I pushing through the obstacles or just using those roadblocks as an excuse to not try?

Jesus said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." It's tempting to only look at the second sentence, and get indignant that life isn't going my way. But the first part of that verse reminds us that living a full life requires effort and work, that there will be many obstacles to overcome to pursue what we love. Not that there might be hardships, there will be; it's a fact.

My dreams--the ideas that I've only shared with a few because they seem so audacious, so amazing, so big--will only ever be just that if I don't step out in faith, being bold, remembering that God has called me to something bigger than what I'm currently living. It's scary though. I like being comfortable. I like ease, I don't like having to lean on anyone else, trusting they will come through for me. I like to be my own savior. But if I keep on that path, nothing will ever happen. And that's not the life I want.

Sketching 1

Here's a peek into my sketchbook. I just drew this the other day. I'm trying out some new ideas, just figuring out how I might incorporate micro-organisms into my work. Also, I'm trying to be more loose when I draw and letting things be more organic and less uptight.

Fresh inspiration

This is a magnified view of a bacterium. Sort of looks like a doily, doesn't it? I've always been interested in microbiology actually--I like looking at diagrams of cells and other micro organisms because they're so visually appealing to me.

My sister, Hannah, recently shared this pink image with me, and suggested I might want to look at other magnified images like it to inspire me. I Googled a bunch of different diseases and found some interesting images. Horrible illnesses, bad bacteria and viruses can be quite beautiful when seen under a microscope. They're obviously some sort of coherent structure with their own symmetry, but organic and natural enough that it's not too geometric. It's natural not man-made. I'm intrigued by that balance between structure and randomness.

My work in the past has been slightly influenced by this background interest in microbiology but only subtly. I've been thinking about genetics and inheritance off and on for awhile, but I didn't feel like I could convey those ideas in the way I wanted to. As I've expanded my repertoire of art making materials and played around in the studio recently, I feel like I'm getting closer to the heart of what I want to convey with my art.

I think this is going to be a more overt inspiration from now on. More to come....

Works in progress

My sister, Leah, snapped this shot today of a corner of my art making space in the basement of our house. There are several different ideas I'm playing around with that are encapsulated in this picture. 

I'll leave it up to you to guess what artistic rabbit trails I'm going down at the moment. :)

I flip something around to face the wall when I'm not sure what to do next on it.

History Detective pt. 3

What an adventure today from one old journal! I just got in touch with Diana Wolfe, Dave Warden's mother. Apparently, they've been trying to track down more information about the history of the Warden family. Diana just e-mailed me a few minutes ago, sending me a few pictures as well.

So now I have a lovely face to go with the name:

Blanche Warden

This is probably from right around the same time as when Blanche was writing in her journal. She actually mentions having pictures taken during June, so perhaps that's what this photo is from.

I finished reading her journal this afternoon. During the summer of 1910, Blanche and her family went to the lake. She writes about how hot it was, going to the yacht club for parties and dances, and hanging out with friends by the beach. Since there was still plenty of pages left to fill, my theory is that she must have lost her journal somewhere while her family was vacationing.

How cool is this whole thing?! This is what I love about the Internet: I can find an old journal and within a few hours discover who the author was and get in contact with descendants of the family! I'm hoping to get Blanche's journal back to them as soon as possible.

History Detective pt. 2

In my last post, I told you about my discovery at work of an old diary owned by Blanche Warden who lived on 21st and Humboldt Ave S in 1910. I shared what I assumed about her based on my knowledge of Minneapolis history and what she wrote about herself in her journal. I've only read up to page 40 so far, though Blanche wrote about 95 pages. In this post you'll learn about what my brother, Andrew, uncovered after doing some detective work online.

First, he Googled Blanche's name but got far too many results from all over (also, we couldn't read that her name had an E at the end of it at first). He narrowed the search to her name and Minneapolis, noticing a hit for descendants of Alexander Warden on Ancestry.com. Someone was looking for information about his family, listing different names and birth dates. One name was Blanche L. Warden born March 20, 1892 in Minnesota. Could this be our girl?

If you read further down, another user posted some interesting information, some of which I will re-share here:

David Charles Warden, lived at 2112 Humboldt Ave. S. in Minneapolis in the home that he built. He and Ida had 6 children. I believe he was a land developer and built many mansions that are in the Kenwood area, Lake of the Ilse areas of S. Mpls. He and Ida lived there until their death in 1937, Ida in 1940. His son Lee Meredith Warden and his wife Olga Sand Warden moved into the family home, Lee was a grain broker and Olga was a famous interior designer, famous for doing the architectural interiors of many private clubs in the Minnitonka area and her clients were the Daytons and the Pillsburys who also lived in the area. 

Well, the address is right, so that would make David Blanche's father. She mentions at one point she and friend dressing up in Lee's clothes and playing around. And Marion is a name that I've noticed often. In the list on Ancestry.com, Marion's birthday is January 31st. Blanche notes on that date "Marion's birthday. 16 yrs old." I then flipped to March 20 in the journal, and what does it say? "My birthday. 18 yrs old seems mighty old I can tell you." So we found our girl! And I was spot-on about their family being quite rich and well-connected. Blanche's sister-in-law designed home interiors for the Pillsbury and Dayton families, who are still movers and shakers in the Twin Cities to this day.

As I was reading further on Ancestry.com, it looks like there's only one person left in the family line:

Lee was the only child of David Charles and Ida Belle to have children. They had two children Mary Lee and David. When Olga died in 1968 their son, David Sand Warden, an accomplished artist moved into the family home. David Sand has only one son, the last of this line of Wardens, David Wolfe Warden, who lives in Austin,TX.

The house on Humboldt is still there (I looked it up on Google maps this morning), but it looks like the family has almost died out. It's odd that only one of Blanche's siblings ever had kids.
As I'm doing more sleuthing, it looks like David Warden's mother is looking for information about their family. I'm going to try to get in touch with her to see if she'd like to have Blanche's journal.

Read Part 3 to find out what happened next!

History Detective pt. 1

I have worked at Half Price Books (the one in Crystal MN) for almost four years now, and in that time have bought a vast number of books from the public. The majority of the time it's just run of the mill stuff--mystery and romance paperbacks, the latest Jodi Picoult, Twilight, etc. It's what Half Price calls the "bread and butter" of our stock: we pretty much always have copies on the shelf because there's just a lot of those types of books out there.

There's also a large amount of stuff that's just in very poor shape that gets recycled right away: severe water damage, mold (ick! that's when we don gloves), questionable substances (is that blood?), bodily fluids of various kinds (oh, hello, cat pee), books with no covers, kids' titles that have bite marks and are ripped almost in two, etc. You get the idea.

Every now and then though I get to uncover a real treasure. My hands once held a book worth over $2,000! (it was on Marc Chagall with a series of original etchings by him included; there were only about 1,000 copies ever printed) Another time, I noticed this small book about magic in a stack I was going through and on a whim just decided to look it up on the Internet. It was selling for $300 online! I think we ended up selling it for $150 in my store. Books like these don't pass through my hands very often, but when they do it's always a treat.

Last week, I found this in a box I was going through:

Seems pretty innocuous at first glance, right? You can't really see it in this picture, but most of the spine covering has fallen off. It's a little beat up and worn but still intact. I flipped it open and saw this written inside the cover:

It's a little hard to read in the picture, but it says:
Blanche Warden
2112 Humboldt Ave
Minneapolis MN

Well, my interest was piqued since that's a local address. I immediately knew that this was also a very old book and that the person who owned it was probably quite well off. How did I deduce all that from only an address? The age I guessed by a few things: One, the writing style tipped me off. And two, it was before the avenues in Minneapolis were given North and South designations, so that tells me the city was still small. If it was Humboldt Ave N, I know that part of Minneapolis wasn't developed until the housing boom following World War II. So I knew that it had to be what is now Humboldt Ave S, which is a well-to-do residential area to this day. It's less than two miles from downtown, and that part of southwest Minneapolis is near the Lake of the Isles and Lake Calhoun with many beautiful historic homes lining the streets. If you lived there during the 1900s, you had money.

That whole thought process took about 5 seconds as I flipped to the pages written on. There's a section at the front meant to be for contact and address information, which sadly is blank. The first entry is dated December 28 with no year.

Turning a few pages though, revealed an entry marked January 1, 1910. So I was right about the age! Skimming a few entries, I quickly realized I was spot on about this girl's socio-economic status as well. I caught a sentence where she wrote, "Henry called on me in his machine." So she had a friend who was rich enough to own an automobile in 1910 (the Model T had only just made its debut two years prior). I read snatches of this or that person calling for her while she was out, so this girl's family had their own phone. And mostly what I saw in my brief perusal was how many parties she went to and how late she got up in the morning.

I didn't think the person who is in charge of the Nostalgia section would put this out for sale, since it's just an old diary. But it was local, so I thought it might be of some interest. I put a note on it saying if it wasn't going to be priced up, I wanted it just to read through the entries. A few days later, I got it and have slowly been making my way through Blanche Warden's notes on her social life.

I'm only on page 40 (very glad that it was printed with page numbers) but what a glimpse I'm getting into Minneapolis of 1910. This is what I've learned so far:

I guessed Blanche was in her late teens, because she mentions going to school, doing some studying, writing a book report about David Copperfield, starting a new term at the end of January and skipping 6th period to go to the Orpheum. And does she go to the Orpheum a lot! I'm only into mid-February and I think I've read at least seven mentions of Blanche and her friends going to that theatre. It was apparently quite the social event, because she writes about feeling like the whole town was there for one event. Another time she writes "we sat in an upper box." Yup, definitely rich.
Blanche was quite the party girl, because most of what she writes is the names of the people who came over to visit or whose houses she went to call at or who was at so-and-so's party and how late she stayed out. I know she had well-off friends, because in one entry from January, she notes that they were served pineapple and cookies at someone's home.
Also, one last name caught my eye--the Calhouns were over for a visit one day. I'm guessing this is probably the family that the lake is named after.
Blanche also notes offhandedly in early January that, "We got a new cook today," and in another entry that, "We only have one girl now," which I'm assuming was a servant.
Also, when she writes of riding in a "car," it's not an automobile but a street car. I bet you didn't know that Minneapolis and St. Paul had a very extensive street car system back in the day (and then they tore it all up, because buses were the wave of the future, and now we're paying tons of money to put lightrail in, but I digress).

Streetcar map from 1913

From this map, I realized that Blanche had a street car line run right by her house, which she could take straight downtown, which she mentions doing on a number of occasions.
Usually though she would get a ride with her friends, either in a carriage or the aforementioned "machine;" a couple times she's given a ride home in a "limousine," which I'm guessing is a bit different than what we think of today.
Blanche writes often of feeling tired and getting up late in the morning (I wonder why when she stayed up so late partying), though in mid-February she comes down with typhoid fever! She doesn't write from February 24 through March 16 because she was so sick, mentioning she had a temperature of 103 at one point!
That's on page 39, where I stopped reading last night.

I've written so far of what I deduced from my knowledge of Minneapolis history, and what I've learned from reading what Blanche wrote, but in the next post I'll share with you what my younger brother, Andrew, uncovered after doing a little sleuthing online.

Reading and writing

I just finished reading Fair Game by Patricia Briggs the other day. Briggs has been one of my favorite authors ever since I discovered her books a few years ago. The only problem with finding an author you really like is having to wait months and years for the next book. YEARS. Well, in her case, she puts out a new title once a year, but she trades off between two series. I buy every single thing she gets published, and I don't wait until the new ones show up at work. I will actually *gasp* pay full price (or close to it). And I'm pretty picky on what I will buy to take up valuable real estate on my book shelf. I only purchase titles I know I'll re-read, going back to the story again and again. Otherwise, a one-time read is what the library is for. I don't need to own every title I've read.

Anyways, reading Briggs' books always gets me to pondering about writing a book myself (not necessarily a fantasy story though). I've just always had the dream to get a book published someday....about something. So specific, I know. But I feel like I can express myself fairly well in writing, and as I've gotten older, actually have (I hope) worthwhile things to say.

As a teen, I penned the requisite angsty poetry. The majority of the poems were crap, though there's a small handful that I'm still proud of. A friend suggested I hang onto even the crappy ones, so they're all saved on an external hard drive just in case I ever feel the urge to look at them again (I doubt it). I had a blog on Blogspot, back in the day when that was still new. Once upon a time, I also had Myspace and Xanga accounts as well. Thankfully, I deleted all of those a long time ago. I'm not interested in my adolescent ramblings hanging out on the web forever. I'm happy with some things about myself just fading away with time.

During college, I had to write innumerable papers and essays and was focusing on making art. Writing was just very formulaic at that point: introductory paragraph, supporting paragraphs, conclusion. I just punched in the information and generally got an A. I didn't think I had anything personal to say in words. I was trying to find myself in art making.

I've grown up a little bit and feel like I actually have thoughts worth sharing these days. However, I find it hard to focus on painting and writing well at the same time. Both require so much brain power and effort, I think it's an either/or thing for me. For example, if I'm working on a blog post, I don't usually end up painting on the same day. Maybe they both are drawing upon the same part of my brain, I don't know.

I primarily view myself as an artist who occasionally delves into writing. But I've been inspired by Patricia Briggs to try my hand at being an author a little bit more. That's kind of why I started this blog. I already had an art blog I maintain semi-regularly, but I also felt the urge to share more personal things that don't just fit into the category of art. I'm not sure where I'm going with it, or if it'll even lead anywhere. But I may as well try.

This year I feel like God has been pressing on my heart to be more open with who I am in a more public way. "Be bold" is my theme for 2012. So, that's why I'm writing on here. I'm not doing this to simply gain readers (though it's always nice to see page views that aren't just from friends and family). It's an exercise in pushing myself out of my comfort zone and not worrying about what others think of me. Not really sure what will come of my blogging, but it's fun and a good way to discipline myself by committing to post about something sort of regularly.

Ripples

Little actions can have big ripple effects. This is something that came to mind today. An off-hand comment, a smile instead of a frown, listening instead of jumping in to speak. It's the small things that we don't even recall that  can have the most impact on others.

I gave a dandelion to a little boy at church once, and apparently it made it his day. I don't even remember doing that, but my Mom mentioned it to me years later that he just thought that was awesome. He said he wanted to be kind like that too when he was older.

When I was little, I once punched a boy at church and shoved him so he fell on the floor and hit his head. All I remember is that we didn't like each other, and I thought he was a little snot. I was quite the firebrand as a kid. And after that, he was even meaner (hmmm, I wonder why?).

There is so much I don't remember about my life (and I'm not even 25 yet). How many people have I treated like the first boy? And how many more like the second? It's a lot easier from me to give in to being mean than taking that higher road of kindness. And it's not always in what I do...my thoughts can be so condemning and critical, cutting down the people unawares around me. That affects how I view them and subsequently treat them. Do I see that person as an annoyance, a bother, something to deal with as quickly as possible so I can get back to what I really want to be doing? Or do I remember that God loves them exactly as He loves me? I'm no better in God's eyes than the shabby homeless guy that comes into my store for a hot cup of coffee. He loves us the same. That's a humbling reminder. We're all on the same level before God.

It's so easy to live inside my own head, viewing the world in relation to how I feel, what I want, what I think. Looking at people as something to be used, to meet my needs. If someone annoys me or gets on my nerves, they're inconveniencing me. It's all about me, and it doesn't matter who they are or what they're going through.
And it's especially easy to reduce people to this working in retail. They're a transaction to ring through, not a person. The little bothers here and there build up, and in my eyes, everyone that walks through the door is a moron, giving me justification to look down on them. I'm so much smarter, more observant, more understanding, whatever. And those little opportunities that arise for a small kindness are spurned.

It's not about customer service, fulfilling my job duties at Half Price, it's about having a servant's heart like Jesus, living out my faith when push comes to shove in the daily grind. The strength of my faith isn't forged in the momentous occasions--it's one small thought and action after another that builds into a life that's truly great. And I fail so often in this.

It's easy to be Christian when people are watching and I'm in the spotlight. Ooh, look at me serving in the homeless shelter, volunteering at the elementary school, sharing my testimony at small group. But what about when there's no around, like when it's that really annoying old lady who won't shut up and I just don't want to smile at her? Or I'm tempted to slack off at work because I feel like it doesn't really matter?

God tells me to do everything for Him, even the seemingly stupid and mundane things. Because I don't know how He's using me or when He's speaking through me. God likes to speak in a still, small voice at times, using the most unlikely mouths to proclaim His Truth to the most unlikely people. He knows the ultimate path a single kind word can travel down or what is wrought by a small act of kindness.

I so want to remember this, not at the end of day when I'm musing online, but in the moment when I need to act. And that it would come from the natural overflow of a loving heart and not just because I'm "supposed to" act that way. Because that's just empty religiosity and nobody needs that.