I just read a blog post from a friend of mine. A friend that I met years ago at a writer’s conference. Julie Kittredge is a visual artist as well as a writer and she’s so beautiful and a lot cooler then me. Any way, her blog was about accepting the art in her soul, how she had pushed it aside for so long, how unhealthy and unhappy she had become because of that. It reminded me of my own journey, made me think about how far I’ve come since her and I met (maybe four years ago?). If your interested in her blog post (the one that informed this one) check if out HERE I really encourage you to.
Four years ago I went to a writing conference. I was writing a little, had been blogging for years, and knew I wanted to write a novel. But I still felt like a fake, a fraud a silly child. I continued to work at it very slowly. Conferences here, retreats there the occasional few hours without kids. Then a year ago all the children (including the ones that I babysat) went to school full time. I was an out of work stay-at-home-mom. My husband encouraged me to remain at home, dive into the book. But I was scared silly. The first week of school we had two car repairs, school supplies and a child who had outgrown all his pajamas. I felt like the most selfish person in the world sitting at home in a quiet house with my pen and paper instead of earning a little extra cash.
But my husband wouldn’t let me quit, he wouldn’t let me give up. As the year wore on this is what I discovered:
To me writing is sacred. God made my soul and writing is part of that and when I was writing I felt God so near to me (even though it wasn’t “religious” writing). When I was writing somehow I felt nurtured in my inward places. I felt alive and calm and happy. I wasn’t sure how putting a made-up story with made-up characters on paper was doing that but it was and it was beautiful. Then our life went a bit sideways and I am telling you if I hadn’t had that writing to escape too I might not have made it. Oh goodness, as dramatic as it sounds, I think the writing saved me.
I know God made my soul to need words yet I felt so guilty accepting that truth like I should sacrifice it for the good of those around me, but NO! My healthy writing soul IS good for the people around me.
We all have souls that God made. He has a special way of speaking to us through our uniqueness and if you ignore those longings you are ignoring God. Accept the beauty of you and make room in your life for it. Your spouse, children, friends will all be better for it in the long run, even if they don’t know it yet. Don’t be scared of your artist-soul.