Glitter in the Grief

This poem is a collective of my own and other’s tales of creativity I’ve packed into one story. Dedicated to those women who are out there blazing the creative spiritual trail. You were told not to get dirty. Keep your fingernails clean. Nice girls smile polite. And, for goodness’ sake, “Do not cuss!” But, you couldn’t help bending your childlike knees in your striped yellow dress,leaning low toward the earth to make a prayer with the God-given soil that lay beneath your feet. You scooped handfuls of water and dust, feeling wet sludge mush between your fingers; this slippery grit…

Kaleidoscope Prayer

As I continue on as a spiritual being having a human experience*, my view of prayer, like a kaleidoscope, has slowly shifted, offering me an opportunity to wrestle as well as fresh beauty at different points in my life. Nowadays, I believe that prayer is all around us and all we have to do is tune into it. No words are necessary. Being present to the conversation, the plea, the pain, the beauty is, indeed, the prayer. What view of prayer do you have? For me, engaging in creativity and painting helps me to tend to this presence and flow. How has it shifted over time?

Beginning with Goodness

You know, I used to see my sin first — the flaw of humanity running in my veins. Goodness lived in the next town over, (me) always traveling, never arriving. I used to view myself as a twisted ray of light with a deep urge to straighten out. If I studied hard enough and gave my time away, would it prove my value? and yes, I knew Jesus at the time and the story of how he cleans my slate and makes me shiny as a whistle but somehow, what this did, was allow me to claim grace for myself,…

Do You Want to Get Well?

Pondering based on John 5:1-14 Jesus asks, “Do you want to get well?” Curious question, is it not? I mean, Is there anyone who doesn’t desire to be well? I wonder. At first assumption, it seems everyone wants to be well. Yet, when I dwell with this question a bit, I can’t help but ask, Do I want wellness to come to me without having to do anything? Do I want a list of perfect steps to take me there? Do I deny there is any healing I need to do while allowing pride to point at the healing others…

Invisible Magic

The first time I came home with a two feet by three feet canvas, I believed I wouldn’t be able to paint this large. Did I have it in me? What is “it” anyways? White-washed canvas taunted. Blank space stared back with beady eyes. Who was I to do this? Who was I to paint? All the old stories came sweeping in: Art is a luxury Isn’t there something better to spend time on? How is change made with the stroke of a brush? Then, I heard from the depth of my being Do not be afraid. Do it anyway….