'Yes,' I replied with a grin.
'I thought so. You seem like the kind of person who has something to say.'
I laughed at his comment knowing that my husband would get a kick out of it.
He knows better than anyone how I just can't seem to keep the words from spilling out.
The Barn. It was one of my favorite parts of the day.
And it wasn't because they just sat there and listened to all of my fumbling words and stories.
It was because they had something to say too.
I watched the hand of our Creator thread the needle in and out of our hearts
as we shared stories that knitted our lives together.
as we shared emotions that needed no explanation.
I unpacked the details of Lucy's recent diagnosis which led us down the road to their own child's medical emergency. Our tears came together into one shared pool for parents who know what it means to stand over a sick child realizing that you have no control over the prognosis.
Heads nodded and shook as we examined the ways our stories overlapped and opened our hearts to reveal what could now be found in those wounded places.
We asked questions and shared answers and admitted when there were none.
We brushed back the mess of our lives to reveal the bright truth and beauty that had grown up underneath it all.
The art was created right there in our midst.
Our smiles and laughter painted big bold strokes of color to fill the space between us.
A sweet, haunting melody was born of our tears as we reached deep in our souls and pulled out heartache and fear.
Having something to say is part of my art. But my work is incomplete if all I ever do is speak and write of my own life...my own experiences. I was created for relationships and so relationships must be a medium for my art. I need the stories of others to express my own art completely.
I always have something to say because I hope maybe it will give you permission to say all of your 'somethings' too.
I think every artist would agree.
Every painting needs eyes to observe and interpret it.
Every song needs ears to listen and be moved by it.
Every story needs a reader to step into it.
Every pie needs a mouth to taste it.
Every artist needs others to move their work from good to glorious.
It's Thanksgiving week and I am thankful for the people who bring my art to life.
I am thankful for the way all of our small 'somethings' come together like colorful strokes on a great canvas we are painting with our lives.
For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another...