Starting a new business

I finally stopped talking, and took the plunge today, setting up an Etsy shop. I've been batting the idea around for a few years now, never getting to the point where I actually made the effort to put my words into action. It was always something I'd do "someday," or "when I have the time," or whatever. I had plenty of excuses for why NOW was never a good time. It'd come up in conversation, and I'd list out my ideas and plans, brainstorming as I went....but it never led to anything concrete.

I'm really good at making work but not much selling it. I've probably got over 50 paintings and collages sitting in my parents' basement right now (and another dozen or two stalled works-in-progress). I had a full time retail job for four and a half years that sucked away too much of my energy and focus. By the time I'd get home from work, I'd be too tired to do more than poke around in my studio for a bit. I only had time to work in bits and pieces. I was actually pretty productive, but just didn't have the mental energy to focus on setting up my art as a business.

And then last year, I totally fell off the art making wagon. I barely made anything of consequence in 2012. I wasn't feeling very motivated artistically, and it didn't help that my job was taxing my energy levels more and more. You only have so much to go around when you live with chronic health issues. Then, I started dating Colin, which was absolutely life changing...but I had a decision to make. I had to decide where I was going to focus my energy. Art? Or my relationship? I wasn't going to commit to both and then half-ass it. I knew I had to really commit to one and let the other slide (for a time). I chose Colin. Which turned out well:

photo by Steve Coleman

So, we got married in February, and I quit my job right before our wedding. I didn't have a plan for what I would do next, but I knew I couldn't keep working in retail. I didn't have another job lined up, but after talking with Colin at length about it, we decided that would be the best course of action. My knees, legs and feet were hurting all the time. On my days off, I always had to ration my energy and turn down doing anything that was too draining.
When I quit, I suddenly felt amazing. I felt so energetic and alive--it was quite a dramatic change!

After settling into married life, getting our new apartment in order and just adjusting to a new life, I started job hunting. I've been applying to jobs since February, landing a few interviews here and there, but no solid leads. The market is still competitive, especially for the entry level office positions I've been applying for.

In my free time, I've been getting back into making art more regularly again. But living in a one bedroom apartment, I have less art creating space and need to be more intentional about my projects. I've already finished one street art project in the last couple months. It was a simple, small series and didn't take long to make and distribute. I wanted to settle into my next big, long term project, but didn't want to clutter up my apartment with artwork collecting dust. And I was ready to transition away from the assemblages I'd been making since college. I had started feeling like I was just repeating myself; my work didn't feel like it was evolving or going in any new directions. Being without a job and a lot of free time on my hands, I'd been feeling a bit directionless over the last couple months.

And then my older brother sent me over 50 small boards (about 4inx6in) as a wedding present (art materials are always a great gift!). A small germ of an idea started growing, and I realized now would be the perfect time to finally create that Etsy shop. Here was a chance to challenge myself to work in a more simple and pared down style so that I could make paintings with a more affordable price point.

So I've spent the majority of the day setting up my shop and listing items. I feel really confident in what I've done so far. It's time for me to stop saying, "someday" and starting putting my ideas into action.

You can check out my Etsy shop to browse through more pictures of what I have for sale: http://www.etsy.com/shop/AbstractAmbience

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.

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.

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....

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.

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.

To love is to risk

"Jesus followers join churches because they want to be like Jesus and will risk loving others deeply. Don't even deny the pain of this risk and naively think that truly living in community as the church with sinners is easy. Church squabbles do injure innocent people. Church leaders do disappoint when they don't live up to their calling. Other believers do betray trust and cause disillusionment. Every Christian both suffers these pains and causes others to suffer harm. To love is to risk and grow through pain, and those who want to love well choose to suffer pain rather than self-protect by abandoning church." ~Mark Driscoll, Doctrine, pg. 340

This is true, but it's not easy to live out. I have been betrayed deeply, to the core of who I am, by people I looked up to and thought were friends.
As a tween, my heart was shattered by a childhood friend--I know from experience what it's like to go through what the Bible calls the dark night of the soul. To weep yourself to sleep is a nice poetic phrase, the reality is something I don't ever wish to repeat. People use "It broke/breaks my heart," so flippantly. You feel like you're dying when it truly happens, like you're being torn in half. To love someone so deeply and innocently as a child....and when it's so callously thrown in your face, and you realize you are esteemed so little by them....it's very hard to overcome. As a kid, you haven't gained the coping skills and maturity yet to process that. An adult is hurt and wounded but knows how to move on, a child is destroyed.

I've mentioned before about being abused as well by a neighborhood boy who was several years older than me. "Love" is twisted into something weird, but you don't realize it at the time. As a child, you just believe that someone older than you knows better and that what they're doing is okay. You look up to this person, you love them and do what they say. Later, you figure out that it's not okay, but you feel scared and worry that you'll get in trouble if you say anything. Maybe you try to tell someone, but it doesn't come out right, you chicken out, it's too weird or uncomfortable to talk about...so you just let it drop. Or maybe like me, you blocked out the memories and they didn't come back until years later. Then all of sudden you're thrown into a tail spin.....what is this? Am I going crazy? What...what are these memories? What do I do with this? I don't have the words to talk about this.......I'm just going to pretend I didn't remember.

But you can't. You've become a different person and how you interact with others has been forever altered. You become harder, detached, independent (who needs people, I'm fine on my own), never getting too close, just waiting for the day when they fail you, always holding back part of yourself so you never have to feel that pain again. You are strong, capable, you protect others but don't let anyone protect you. God helps those who help themselves, right?

And how you see God? Well, He's God, so He's loving....but maybe He's not as powerful as the Bible says. Because why would He let your heart get destroyed like that? Why do you feel so alone in this pain, haunted by these past wrongs and unable to move beyond them? Where's the healing, Lord? Why on earth should I trust your people to help?! We barely talk about healthy sexuality in the church....no, it's better to keep it to myself.

And so it goes. Too afraid to open up, the fear of discovery of your shame, fear of being let down, scared of what people might think or say, scared of being broken again (you'd never pull the pieces back together again), afraid, fearful, terrified.......Fear rules and reigns in your life. It chokes you, determining every interaction you have with another person, chases you at night and hinders your sleep.....and it just never lets up. You just want it to stop. You try your hardest to move beyond it, stuffing it down, pretending you don't feel it......but the fear comes back. You tell yourself you're being silly, irrational, a stupid teenager--it's just hormones, but you feel the same anyway.

Finally, one night, you're at the end of your rope and cry out from the depths of your soul. You've prayed before, but tonight something is different. You feel some peace and sleep heavily, looking forward to this youth group conference you're going on tomorrow. It's the start of something new, though you don't know that yet. God shows up, you feel His presence in such a way that you are forever changed. You cry and admit that the wounds of the past still hurt so much. It's the beginning of a journey towards healing and renewal. You are alive again!

And now, here I am almost a decade later. God's brought me on a crazy journey since 2002. It's not all sunshine and sparkles, but it's better. I have come far and overcome much, and the road still stretches on in front of me.

Why do I tell all this in a post about loving others and risking my heart to be in real relationships with other Christians? To show that it's not just words, naive churchy speak. To say, "God doesn't want me to be alone," is easy. I truly believe it....even though I still struggle with taking down the walls around my heart. Even though I have been wounded and betrayed and hurt....I still need His people. I need love, I need to be connected with others, I can't live live alone. I don't just need Jesus in my life--I need His followers too. His messed up, hypocritical, gossipy, sinful failures who can be pretty mean sometimes...because that's me too. I need forgiveness for my failings just as much as I need to extend forgiveness to those who have wronged me.

I hang onto the fact that God is love, and there is nothing evil about Him. He says He is all powerful, and I do doubt sometimes, but I believe Him. He's just and good, and says all evil will be accounted for and judged. He says He holds me in the palm of His hand, so I'm protected, even if I might not feel like it. He says He has a plan and hope for my future, that everyday His mercy is renewed in my life. It's not just pithy Bible verses, it's what I hold onto when Fear comes whispering, when my heart quivers and fails. My faith is not based on what I feel at any given moment; my foundation is that God is love.

I need to trust Him. That if I open up, share of myself, risk being vulnerable (in a wise and healthy way), dare to build deep relationships, moving beyond shallow "how are you?" to "I love and care for you," that He will be there for me. If people fail me, God won't. If I'm rejected, He will always be there. I don't want a lonely, empty life because I let fear rule me. I don't want to hold back because I'm afraid of getting hurt. To really love, I have to let go of my heart and trust that God will take care of it. I realize that people will fail me, might betray me, may leave me.....but I my worth is not found in them.

Jesus loved and shared His heart and life freely, then was betrayed by one of His closest friends. He knows what that pain feels like. He knows what it's like to feel utterly alone and abandoned. He knows what it's like to be stabbed in the back. He knows. And that gives me comfort, because my God has experienced what I feel. And He loves anyways. Not because He's stupid, but because a life without love is empty and meaningless.

Year in review part 3: Me

So far I've shared about family and friends (and church). Now it's onto a more personal focus, what's been going on with me this year (I wanted to keep the whole alliteration thing going with the titles, because I'm weird like that, but I couldn't think of a good word that starts with F for this post).

I started out the year with an art show. Four of my paintings were on display at Coffman Union at the University of Minnesota. My art was chosen for all the promotional stuff, which was pretty awesome. It's really neat to see a big ol' poster with your work splashed across it. The art shows continued, February being the best month, when I had art in FOUR shows at the same time! I had work displayed in an upscale salon, a tattoo shop, restaurant, and an actual gallery. Beloved Studios (the tattoo place) left my paintings up from February until August! I didn't have too many other shows this year, but I did get to road trip a little for one. In October, I drove up to the Iron Range in northern MN with all my Doily Ninjas to be part of a street art show. My grandparents live just two minutes from the gallery, so it was fun for my Grandma to get to see my art in person. My grandparents also had more to brag about when pictures of some of the Doily Ninjas got published in the Mesabi Daily News. Thanks, Grandma, for the newspaper clippings--I will totally hang on to those!

Any press is good!

I got a really good response from people, probably because I gave away a few of the Ninjas. The Doily Ninjas are my most successful series so far; it's been really fun to see where they end up--my Ninjas are more well traveled than I am! Someone brought a Ninja to Japan; Hannah's taking one with her to New Zealand, and another friend is packing one when she and her family go to Cameroon next month. Just remember to take pictures for me, guys! 

The Doily Ninjas have been extra fun for me, because I always planned to give them all away. I got the wood shapes for free, and I just like to share art with others. Sure, I like to sell work as well (money is good), but part of my artistic philosophy is that I give some stuff away too. God gifted me with a passion and skill for art making, I like to give back by not clinging so tightly to everything I make. Beauty is meant to be shared. 

Speaking of art, I just applied for graduate school this month. If I get accepted, I'll be attending the U of MN next fall for a Master's in painting. I feel like God's telling me it's time to start a new chapter in my life and focus more on what I really want to be doing. Now that my application is out of the way, I'll be gearing up to apply for more art shows after Christmas. 

The biggest thing this year was getting my tattoo. It's been something I'd been thinking about for a long time and finally had the money to do it right. I'm so happy with it, and it just feels right to have it there now. It's a visual aid for a great story about Who God is and what He's done in my life. In the coming year, I look forward to sharing that testimony more. God has really been impressing on my heart that I need to not give into fear, but be bold and courageous, standing up and proclaiming that I am who I am today because of His great love. Without Jesus, I would be lost, broken, alone, bereft, in darkness and hopeless. I never want it to become this trite, faky smile story. It's not like, "Everything was horrible, then Jesus showed up and now it's all perfect!" *cheesy grin* Life has its ups and downs, and God is there with me through it all. 

Another cool thing this year: my sisters and I went on a great American road trip across the country. We went from MN to Omaha, Nebraska (where our aunt and uncle live), then straight through to Tucson, Arizona. It was just the three of us and my red Elantra, zipping through mountains and desert, there and back again in a little less than two weeks. It was alternately draining and relaxing. Our friends in Tucson spoiled us and played tour guide--I definitely want to visit again! I love road trips, and there's just so much to see in the Southwest. Note to self next time: don't try to drive straight through the night, pay the money for a hotel. It was really hard to come back to the humidity of the Midwest after the glorious dry heat of AZ. If I didn't like MN so much, I would move there right now.

I'm going on three and a half years at Half Price now. It's been a decent job with some nice benefits--they take pretty good care of their employees. I'm grateful to have great health insurance, that's for sure! I appreciate having such a flexible job when it comes to getting days off. Because of that flexibility, I've been able to do as many art shows as I have and volunteer as well. There's not too many jobs you can just take every Tuesday off to go volunteer somewhere. I really like that I can do that. I also love the fact that I'm surrounded by books every day and get paid to read. I've learned so much from all the awesome books I've come across at Half Price. I always said when I was growing up that I wanted to work at a bookstore someday. 

But lately, the store's been feeling smaller, claustrophobic at times. There's an itch, I guess you would call it, a quiet longing for something more. A little voice whispering in the back of my mind as I go about my day: "Don't settle. Don't stagnate, Elisabeth. You will not be happy or content to stay here another three years." It's scary though, because I don't know what's coming next. It's safer to just settle into neutral and not strive too hard....but it's not the best way. I want the less traveled road, the journey through uncharted territory. I can feel it's time for something new--God's been poking me most of the year to get ready. He knows that I like being comfortable and am not a huge fan of big life change. 

And if I'm coming across as all uber-spiritual and faith-filled, because I mention God a lot, don't believe it. I floss more than I read my Bible. If I want to read something, the Bible is definitely not the first thing that comes to mind. Over the last 12 months, I definitely have gotten closer to Jesus and feel like I understand Him just a bit more...but faith is a never ending journey. I suck at it a lot more than I'm successful. That's one thing I've realized this year: I may have grown up in the church and a Christian household, which means I know a lot about the Bible....but it's much harder for that knowledge to be transformed into application in my life. I don't want to be a Christ follower simply in word. It's easy to talk, that's cheap and easy. The hard part comes when it's time to put one foot in front of the other and actually live out what I say I believe. I think if I focus on following Jesus first and foremost, the rest will get figured out along the way. 

Angry eyebrows and old people

I noticed recently that my face tends to naturally slip into a scowl.

Not like Mr. Sparkly Vampire--he's just pouting

I've been catching myself lately with a furrowed brow and my lips turned down. I don't know why either--I don't really have a lot of stress in my life. I think it's just because I tend to focus deeply on the task at hand or be in the process of deeply pondering something. 

But the reason it bothers me is that as you age, your face sets into whatever expression you make the most. Your wrinkles mirror your life-long demeanor, not just the face you present to the public.

Who's got a big stick up her butt?

Who's been laughing at himself for years?

I'm aiming to be a happy, joyful old person, and I want my face to reflect that. Old ladies come into the book store where I work all the time, and they just look like they've been sucking on lemons their whole lives. They also have waaaay to much makeup on and seem to be trying to pretend that they're still in their 20's. I'm sorry, but a woman in her 60's shouldn't dress the same as a 22 year old. It just looks silly and desperate. 

Guess what? I embrace the fact that I'm going to get old someday. I've already decided I'm not going to color my hair when it goes gray. What's that Bible verse? "Gray hair is a crown of glory." Yeah, I like that. 

Anyways, I don't want to look like those sour old ladies. I want my wrinkles to reflect my life of walking with Jesus. And that life might not always be easy or fun, but as a Christian, I can be content no matter what my situation. I don't want eyebrow furrows and frowning lips--I want laugh lines...lots of them. I want my face to show that even in the tough times, I still chose to look for the silver lining instead of focusing on all the dark clouds. (And that is how I currently view my life.)

 I seek to age like my parents, who have lived through many trying, dark times in their lives...yet it's common to hear them bantering and laughing with each other. They could be angry, bitter, cynical, and have every right to be. But what kind of life is that? They've shown me that a life of complaining and bitterness and grudge-bearing leads to nothing, even though it's easier to go that route. To choose happiness and joy takes a little more work, but is ultimately more fulfilling. I think one of the reasons my parents have aged so well is that they choose to make much of the good things in life. 

30 years of marriage--they still LIKE each other.
This picture epitomizes who they are.

I want to reflect that shared worldview. I don't want to be sour but joy-filled. Positive not grumpy. Happy by choice not from naivete. I want to age gracefully, not desperately trying to hang onto some ideal of youth. Just like the seasons of the year, so people transition into different stages of their lives. We need winter just as much as summer, does that make sense? 

So wrinkles? Bring 'em on. I just really don't want angry old lady eyebrows. 

My Wings

way more awesome than my original idea

I recently fulfilled a long awaited life goal: getting a tattoo of wings on my back. And when I say "long awaited," it's been at least 10 years that I've been thinking about it (so, yes, starting when I was around 13). I originally only asked for basic black and white angel-type wings, simply because I couldn't think of what colors I would want. Brandon Heffron and Dan Claessens of Beloved Studios collaborated and came up with this amazing design; they each picked a side and worked on me in tandem (two people tattooing at once actually hurts less, I think). It took three sessions for a total of 11.5 hours: the first was the black outline, the second was most of the color, and the last was adding the highlights, shadows and finishing touches. You can take a look at a picture from after the first sitting to see how quickly they worked.

I had multiple people (other tattoo artists and customers at Beloved) come through to check out my back as it was getting worked on. They were amazed at how big and epic I was going for my first tattoo. Apparently, teeny tiny is the norm for your first, but I didn't want piddly little chibi wings on my shoulder blades. Visitors would comment how painful it must be and how hardcore I was. Actually it really didn't hurt that much (except for at the end of the second session). I may look delicate, but I have a really high pain tolerance. Getting a spinal tap, having lots of blood drawn, breaking numerous bones and enduring several EMGs over the years has helped me build up my pain endurance.

"So you sat through multiple tattoo sessions for some colorful wings? Aren't angel wings kinda cliche?" you might be thinking at this point. Sure, it is a common tattoo motif, but my wings have a long story behind them and hold a lot of meaning for me. The super short cliff notes answer is the wings are a potent symbol of hope and God's grace and mercy in my life. The Lord of the Rings length version (which I will edit here, don't worry) starts sad and dark but ends hopeful and triumphant. Brandon and Dan don't even know the history behind my wings, but they added elements to the design that illustrate my story even more.

I have told few people what I'm about to tell you, but I think it's time I share this more publicly. I am a living testament to the reality of God. I know God is real, beyond a shadow of a doubt, because of what I've gone through, the good and the evil.

I was repeatedly sexually abused by my best friend's older brother when I was a little kid (under the age of 9). I won't go into all the details (frankly, because I don't remember everything), but I know I was molested at least several times over the years. Anyways, I completely blocked those memories, didn't even recall that it had happened....until it all literally came crashing back into my consciousness one winter night when I was eleven. I didn’t know how to talk about what had happened; and as a kid, thought that I would get in trouble if I said anything. So I didn't tell anyone about it for years. I got really depressed and had what I later figured out were panic attacks at night. It took me hours to get to sleep sometimes, fear and shame and panic would knot my stomach. When I moved into my own room, I had to have a night light by the door; I couldn’t walk down into the basement without a light on, because the dark would feel so oppressive and scary. Some nights I just couldn't turn to face the wall because I felt like SOMETHING was lurking outside my door and would get me if I let my guard down. As a 14-year-old you don’t want to admit to anyone you’re afraid of the dark.

I just wanted the fear, shame, guilt and utter loneliness to end. I hid it really well though—friends, family, no one knew the pain I was carrying around. I just didn’t have the words and tried to stuff the memories away as I went about my daily life.

Occasionally from when I was around 11 to maybe 15 years old, I would have these dreams where I would be flying. I usually don't remember my dreams, but I can recall these ones in crystal clear clarity. I always felt better when I woke up from a flying dream, it was like a little candle lit in a dark room. I would feel some quiet hope that the darkness and pain wouldn't last forever. But eventually the feeling would pass and I'd just feel the heaviness again.

And it’s not like I was a walking wraith or something. I went to school, church, youth group, babysat for people, took Driver’s Ed, normal teen stuff. I did have fun and have many good memories from my early teen years…but there was always this burden I was carrying around that I couldn’t get rid of. And at night, there was nothing to block out or distract me from the overwhelming fear I felt. I tried to pray it away, but what I needed to do was reach out to someone. I couldn’t deal with it myself.

The summer I was 15, I had come to the end of my rope. I just wanted to give up, I couldn’t take it anymore; I felt so isolated and alone. Sometimes I forget what a low place I was in then. The night before I left for this two week trip, I remember just being at my absolute wit's end. I wrote down a prayer (which I still have somewhere), just crying out from the depths of my heart. Pretty much I was like, "God, if you don't help me right now and do something to change this, I'm done. I can't do this, I can't carry this weight anymore. I don't know what to do or where to turn, but you need to do something over these next two weeks." And He answered that prayer far more than I could have imagined. That trip literally saved my life.

If I hadn't gone, I don't think I would be here today. God opened the wounds of my heart and started the healing process. I had an amazing youth leader that talked with me for hours every night. If not for her, I wouldn't have started dealing with my past. I told her what had happened to me, and she just hugged me and let me cry. I realized what had happened to me wasn't my fault, that I didn't need to feel guilty or ashamed. To just open up and tell someone and be accepted not rejected...my heart had been crying out for that.

The reason I use pendulum.and.fire as a user name online is from that trip. The name of the worship time we had one night was called Pendulums and Fire. The point was that most people are like pendulums--they swing back and forth between being hot and cold for God. We need to be like a steady burning fire, a hot ember even. It's not what our "feelings" are but Who our hearts belong to that determines our Christian walk. We need to grab onto God and not let go, no matter what. That night has stuck with me since that summer in 2002. I felt God's presence like I never have in my life. I could literally feel the weight of the Holy Spirit filling that room, filling me. It wasn't just a "mood" or a "feeling," Jesus touched my heart that night and I have never been the same since. Whenever I feel doubt about God's presence in my life, I just point myself back to that night. If I never experience anything supernatural in my life again, that one night is proof enough for me of who God is and that He is near. Satan has tried to drag me down to where I think God isn't involved in my life or doesn't really care, but all I need to do is look back on that night and see the truth.

So, my life was completely changed. I came back a different person. Some people get on an emotional high (and I would see it all the time in youth group) and then when the conference is over, within a week or two it's back to business as usual. My youth leader friend commented about that over two years later: she said, "You never came down from that because it wasn't an emotional 'high,' God brought you to a new place."

My wings are a testament of God's healing grace and love in my life.

They are also a reminder of Isaiah 40, especially verse 31: "but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not faint."

And over the last 7 years as I've had to deal with health problems, my wings also speak to me of the hope I have for the future. That one day I (and Andrew, my brother) won't be sick. Andrew won’t have multiple diseases, innumerable drugs to take, illness to endure. I won’t limp around with wasted legs and painful joints, having to ration my energy. We will run through the fields of Heaven, never worrying about having to take drugs or getting tired out from walking up stairs. If I didn’t have that hope, this life would be completely unbearable. What is the point of a life of pain and sickness and misery and then you die, and that’s it? No, I have a hope and a future! Jesus said there is something to look forward to after death, and I believe that with all my heart.

So, my wings speak to me of the past, where I have been and where God has brought me from; they speak of the present, God's grace and sustaining power for what I endure today; and they speak of the future, a hope in what is unseen and not yet, a glorious resurrection and ultimate healing. That is the story my wings tell.