It's a very disconcerting way to live, you see. Avoiding the thing you've been made to do. Making excuses for doing something else--anything else--rather than sitting down and doing the thing that makes you feel alive. It makes me feel as if a part of my very spirit has withered away beyond the point where it can be revived.
I used to crave moments when nothing else in the world mattered more than getting out on paper the thoughts that were percolating inside of me. Not that they were sweeping, life-altering, earth-shattering things, but they were mine, and to put them into words made everything feel . . . right.
Van Gogh said, "I only feel alive when I paint." It's as if he felt that something in the world wasn't quite right unless he did the thing he was made to do. And look how greatly he enriched our world. Would the world have continued on if he had sat idly by, letting his inspiration evaporate from him? Sure it would, just as the world will continue to spin even if any of today's artists cease to create. The world, to survive, does not need artists to create.
But it seems to me that for the artist to survive, he must create.
For a long, long time, I did not think of myself as an artist of any sort. When I was very little, I enjoyed painting with water colors, coloring in coloring books, reading whatever book I could get my hands on, and singing in the shower. I'm not sure what changed any of that. I haven't picked up a paintbrush (other than to paint a birdhouse or a bedroom) in years. I don't remember the last time I just sat and colored. And singing in the shower? The last time I did that my brother knocked on the bathroom door and mimicked the song I was singing. (I've always remembered that and never recovered from the embarrassment.)
I grew up in a home where art and creativity was in our blood. Performing arts, specifically. I was in church musicals, Christmas pageants, school plays and the school choir all throughout my school years, many of which were directed by my father. When I was quite young, I really enjoyed it, but as I got older, I began to realize I actually didn't like performing much, after all. Being creative, yes. Being in front of an audience, no.
But after high school, I felt like I was spinning. Without a creative outlet to call my own, I felt lost and insecure and anything but an artist, though deep down inside of me I desperately wanted to be one. While I was in college, I spent far too much time majoring in things I thought I "ought to" major in, instead of the things that spoke to my heart, the things that moved me and excited me. These were the things that scared me.
I ended up getting over myself and changed majors. A few years in, I finally found my way to the English department, and I spent the next two years immersing myself in the beauty and mystery of the written language. I shied away from creative writing (one step at a time, right?), but I found something within myself as I spent the next two years studying literature. I found something to which I felt called.
But here I am, five years later, and I'm struggling to find my way back to that place, the place where I feel inspired and alive.
Today when my daughter went down for her morning nap, all I wanted to do was crawl into my own bed for a mid-morning snooze. I snuggled in, flipped on my iPad and started checking out the Facebook news feed. A Facebook friend of mine was announcing that she'd just published her first work. Now I hardly know her, to be honest, but it felt like a personal jab, like somehow I'd missed my chance to do the thing I know deep down I'm supposed to do. She clearly hadn't. To make matters worse, she has an infant daughter, works full time, and is involved at church with her pastor husband. Me? All I do is stay home to take care of my 13 month old little girl.
In that moment all I wanted to do was hide under the covers, away from the rest of the world. I asked God, "Why her? Why not me?" And then I thought, "This isn't fair. How come it's so hard for me to get through the day with one child, while she clearly has no problem? And, it's not like things are going to get easier for me--baby #2 is on the way now. As much as I want this family, how will I ever be able to have my other dreams, too? Do I have to give it up? Was I wrong to dream the dreams I've dreamed? This is just so... unfair."
That word--unfair--made me realize that I was experiencing a searing bout of envy (envy: painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another joined with a desire to possess the same advantage). I felt bad about that, but it was as though I couldn't help it. I know the Bible warns us about envy, but in that moment, in all honesty, not one verse came to mind. Not one. (That's incredibly embarrassing to admit.) So to my Bible I went, and of all the verses that were listed in the concordance regarding envy, here is the one that stuck out to me:
"A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones." Proverbs 14:30 (TNIV)
Clearly, my heart is not at peace, not if I'm resentful of another person's success, all while desiring it for my own. So, how exactly do I get this elusive peace? I actually thought perhaps I had some. I was wrong.
Isaiah 26:3 says, "You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you."
And there it is: my mind hasn't been steadfast. I have wavered between doubt and self-pity, envious of others who seem to have what it takes to actually do the thing their heart screams for them to do. It's not to say that I haven't trusted in the Lord. I have trusted in him for many things, but I haven't trusted him with this lately. I used to trust him completely with this part of my life, but I think somewhere along the way I took it back again. And as a result, my mind is not at peace.
Van Gogh said a lot of really poignant things, and today these few are resonating with me. Perhaps they'll resonate with you, too:
"If you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,' then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced."
“The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore.”
“What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?”
So today, armed with a new self-awareness, I apologize to this Facebook friend for being envious of your success. Congratulations on a job well done.
And finally, I apologize to you Lord for not trusting you with this part of me. It is yours. I am yours. Use us as you will.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him and he will make your paths straight." -- Proverbs 3:5
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