In this silence I can hear myself think. The low gentle humm goes in and out like a deep breath that gives life. The rumble and melody of my fingers against the keyboard is like a song so gentle and sweet.
I had a talk today with a very dear friend of mine--Kristie Koll. She is one of the rarities in life--a true friend, to the core, to the quick. I know she would die for me, and I would die for her, and to me, that's what makes a friend a real true friend.
She gets to me in ways no other friend can. God uses her to speak to me, so quick, so clean, like a piercing dagger stretching to the bottom of my heart. Through a conversation that lasted an hour and a half God used her voice to open my eyes to see that I need to do a little journeying. I need to take a walk within myself. I need to notice every nook and cranny. I need to see myself the way God made me, not the way I made me--not how I, with my skewed pathetic view, see myself, but how God Almighty with love and care, and intricate design, sees me.
I began a painting tonight. I am painting what I think God sees when He looks at me. Not the me that is skin and flesh, mostly pink with a little yellow. Not the me that is scarred by life's cruelty, it's repeating hatred and scorn. But I am painting the me that God, in a moment of true brilliance, spilled forth in my mother's belly. The me that was brand new, the me that will be again once I die, the me that lies within this flesh, shrouded always by humanity. I am painting the me inside me. It's invisible to my eyes, but there. It is beautiful, and soft, holy, and happy.
I have never before painted anything close to this. I've always painted things that were about other people, other issues, other, other, other. I have chosen to paint things detached from who I am. I did this unconsciously. I didn't realize I was avoiding me. I was too scared to paint me. What would you see when you saw it? You would hate it, I hated it, and I knew that if the world saw it they would burn it. They would burn the most precious part of who I am. That little treasure of self that sits inside, barely known to even you, it is so secret and beautiful--how could I share that without fear of it being torn to shreds and corrupted forever. Safer to keep it hidden, my subconscious told me.
But now, through God's revelation, I realize what I have done. I realize that through fear I have let myself be buried. I realize through trepidation I have resolved to only show shades and hints of who I am, testing the ground to see if matches have been laid.
I am learning. I am learning how to find myself and when I do to show others who I am. I am beautiful. I am honored. I am cherished, ravishing, and lovely.
I will paint this. I will paint this for you. I will paint this for me.