Walking, Dreaming, Writing

March 31, 2008

Yesterday, I woke up and my thoughts were poetry. It was like my spirit was singing.

I have words racing through my mind all the time. Yesterday, they were dancing through my mind. They weren’t frantically striving for function… they were playfully and gracefully interacting with one another and finding beauty.

It was like the difference between rushing to a meeting and walking in the mountains, just to walk. Such walks have purpose, but their joy and life isn’t squeezed out for the sake of greater efficiency.

The difference in the words that morning wasn’t a matter of mere pace. The words did move more slowly and casually, at times, just as I may take things in and progress more slowly in a walk through nature. But, in moments, they also had that energized quickness that the mountains so easily awaken in me.

The words were beautiful. There was rhythm… cadence.  It really was like a song.

It felt like the only responsible thing I could do, when I woke up, was to write. Like I needed to join into the dance and play of the words and help them find greater permanence. Of course, the ruling logic of my mind made me go to work instead.

Sometimes I know that I need to write. Sometimes I know that I have something to say.

Most of the time, I think I just want to write. Most of the time, I don’t have a clue what I would say. Why would I write? What could I say that needs to be heard?

I often tell myself I have no profound writing gift, so why bother at all? I’ll back it up with arguments of comparison. Oh, what a terrible destroying force comparison can be! I’ll tell myself that whatever I write would be sub-standard and really more of an embarrassment… to have tried. Maybe I need to stop talking to myself.

Often, I notice that the areas in my life where I am most frustrated with my inability are the areas in which I possess my greatest skills. Maybe I struggle, so frequently, with feeling completely inarticulate because I do have some measure of gift in communication.

However small that measure may be… I need to do something with it. It would be safer to bury it, to hide it, to ignore it. It would be easier to pretend it was not there. Small things are easy to hide. But He knows. And He keeps nudging me to take risks and grow. Oh, that incessant divine nudging.

I need to allow myself room to dream more. I think I need to allow myself to talk to God about the things that I want to do and the places I want to go. Often, He is the one painting the pictures in my mind. It seems rude to call them silly and then discard them, moping afterward because I liked the “silly” picture and it made me smile before I crumpled it up and threw it away.

Patient, gentle kindness. Oh Lord, I need Your help!



  1. I like where this ended up–well, where it started and how it got there, come to think of it–but I thought for a moment I was going to have to admonish you. I will instead say, AMEN! You do have a gift. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you are beginning to understand that it is part of your calling and that the LORD is the one stirring it within you. Think about “The War of Art” (which, thanks to you, is stirring the pot in a talented group of Jesus-loving artists in Colorado), about resistance, the accuser; rather, think about the Beautiful One who opposes it, who treads its ankle-biting cowardice underfoot. Follow Desire and don’t let inertia have its way (I’m saying that to both of us).

    I will say one other thing. Excellence is certainly an important value (though I don’t think there’s any danger of your discarding it), but the exercise of your gift can’t always be quantified in some measure of profundity, performance or perfection. This is just another way that you say “Yes!” to the one who is calling you. The “Yes!” moves His heart and we are generally poor judges of quality anyway. You knew all this already and said or implied it. But I just wanted to affirm that truth and encourage its taking root in your heart.

  2. Word to Big Bird!

    I don’t think I know anyone who thinks and expresses things like you do. And that’s a very good thing. There is more pure creativity expressed through your words than through most other people and I have been lucky enough to enjoy it on a number of occasions.

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