The littlest was howling. He hurt his knee. He came running. Tucking himself next to me, he took my long skirt and draped it over his wound, holding it tight. Eyes closed tight too, unaware how he was warming my heart, he cuddled into my lap.
That kind of smile that comes from deep down broke out all over my tired face. It comforted me that I could comfort him, even with just the corner of my garment. To him, this was an extension of me. He wrapped his pain in me.
How creative! How wonder-full.
I can see the whole world in my family; a world that is, and one that can be. I see a world that was and is now being renewed. Then, when I survey the world beyond my borders I carry the hope that I find here at home.
Floods and earthquakes, sunken ships and sunken hope fill the air waves of this burning wilderness.
I read an ancient book daily that informs me there is no distinction of people with different color and status. We’re loved. Yet, I look out to modern now, and it seems we never got the memo. If a tree falls in the forest and no one was there to hear it…
So I howl and run for comfort, holding eyes tight. I find these pieces to drape over me: ink and paint, and words and images and sounds like music. I wrap pain and wounds in these creative things, creative imagination, create…Creator…I find You here, these pieces of Your story: true and hope-filled.
You love me here, like my son is loved by me, wrapping his wound in my skirt. You lift my head and I open my eyes again.
Comforted; now to run some more.
“God’s glory is on tour in the skies,
God-craft on exhibit across the horizon.
Madame Day holds classes every morning,
Professor Night lectures each evening.
Their words aren’t heard,
their voices aren’t recorded,
But their silence fills the earth:
unspoken truth is spoken everywhere.”
— A David Psalm
I find these pieces to drape over me, the long train of a King’s garment. I cover my wounds there. I howl there!
And the filling of the air waves with my howl and your howl and the howl of all that we create is no less powerful or filling than the rest of the news. It is more powerful and more filling. It is healing. It is needed. Even if we are unaware how we warm a heart or the smile upon us.
What are you creating lately? Memories for your children to store up? A painting? A poem? A book? A letter to a lonely one? I’d love to hear.
Keeping on creating on with you today, friends,
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Thank you for sharing your heart is such a sensitive and profound way: It shines with a perspective of , embracing and sharing love,… a beautiful direction towards the peaceful stillness we all need. A place where vision and hearing isn’t buried in the noise of so many false personas, but nourished in the innate blessings that I (for one) too often fail to bring into everyday realization.
Also, it was very, very nice, that you invited your readers to take part in “Why we create, and what we might be creating now.”
I hope everyone takes the opportunity to respond. I know you’d love to hear from them…
But, I also want to thank you for those questions and the invitation, because by doing so, you reawakened me to the importance of deeper journeys I had abandon.
Your question at the end of your article is a true challenge, and I hope your readers will take that challenge to heart, benefit from it, and share, so that it might help others as well…
I create because I’m the son of my Father. I create because my Father is the Creator. This is my ongoing creative effort in the now: That my Intentional Awareness, will keep me conscious of automatically building my Fathers’ core values and worth into any creative project that I approach.
a broken baroque
Lovely imagery-poetry-prophecy! Grace!
His train filling the temple! So much to wrap us up in! 🙂
My heart smiles big from this post, sister!
What am I creating now – healing foods, healing fasts, carving fun moments into busy sick days, creating order out of chaos one piece of cereal/lego brick/dirty sock/forgotten book @ a time.
I sent you both emails. Thank you both for the courage you share. I love your comments.