Lessons I learn and too quickly forget perhaps. And I know to only write about what He is teaching me.
Lessons on thankfulness and grace. Mercy and being still. Lessons on hope found in words. Knowing deeply where my significance is found. Upon whose hands on which I am engraved.
Theology often complicates things in my mind. Yet I strive to search and study for myself. To form my own opinions instead of relying on what southern religion has always dictated.
Yet I hesitate to share too many of these thoughts. Fear of disagreement and confrontation lurking ever near. What if I get it wrong? I have never purported to be a scholar.
Oh I am writing, but as in many things these days I find myself slow at finishing. My mind beginning words and then becoming distracted by the many tasks and people needing, wanting, my attention. Adult ADD perhaps?
Fighting the resistance is a battle. Insecurities always roaming around. The voices that want you to give up.
So I find myself with camera in hand often lately. Searching down country roads for inspiration. No pressure to pen words just right or capture family images for clients. No fretting. No one to please.
As I traipse through knee high grass to capture the image of an old red barn or abandoned country house something pricks at the artist within me. Compose the image. Click. Capture. Another angle. Another view. Seeking details too often overlooked. Tweaking camera settings to meet my artistic play. Observing. Letting the scene just be and listening for what it is speaking to me.
And in hearing these images speak I once again find my voice.
Do you have another artistic endeavor you turn to when you feel stuck? Does it help open up your creativity in other areas? Does it help you find your voice again?