For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. I Samual 16:7b
I write from my heart, the thoughts that niggle at me for days at a time, the subjects that seem to come up randomly too many times, vying for priority and attention in my brain's sieve. Little flashes of light glinting off the hard stones of truth sitting among the many ordinary rocks I gather in that sieve throughout the day. The effect my writing has on my readers is intriguing...for some, the pictures, the visual tapestry of my life, is unfamiliar and foreign, yet the words I write resonate, long-known truths about me trotted out in black and white. For others, the crystal glint of winter sun on snow and the trappings of my life offer no new visual information, but the words I write are alien and surprising. I look around me, casting my gaze across the yellow walls of my kitchen, out the bank of windows in this sunny nook where I type, to the high hill of snow that separates my house from a field full of soybean stubs standing stiff as posts in the frozen ground. I see a spectrum of visual truth that reflects what I hold to be true on the 'inside', on that soul level of the world that matters so eternally more than the fading beauty of a January vista. Home as haven, blessing from God and wrought with hard work from our hands; field as food and man's curse, all rolled into one; frigid snow a reminder of vulnerability and also the hard core desire to survive at the heart of each of us; sunlight, coming and going according to the clock, never wavering, completely beyond human control. And that is what I write: truth in trivial, diary of details.
It is interesting what we see in others, isn't it? Do you see me as a lover of beauty, squeezing the sensual from the ordinary? A deep thinker, always reading more into the little things than may even exist there? Do you see me as a busy mom, tossed with frustration and desperately clinging to God, driven there by distraction and discontent? I see myself as a quite ordinary servant of God, called to a deeper reflection by the details of life. Pulled closer to Him and solidly planted in faith by watching children die, holding sobbing parents, marrying quickly, having a full serving of children poured on my plate during the first course, hearing a doctor say "cancer" while in my late 20's. I stand at the doorstep of thirty, on my tiptoes, craning my neck to see what the next decade holds. I see season upon season of blessing, and pain, and reflection, and servanthood. I hope that is what you see reflected here, in words and pictures. Me, unplugged. Me, laid bare. Me, holding my life out, palms up, for you to see and understand and praise God because of.
Your will above all else
My purpose remains
The art of losing myself
In bringing You praise
Everlasting
Your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending
Your glory goes beyond all fame
~From the Inside Out, Hillsong
No comments:
Post a Comment