Walls, Toilet Paper, and Encouragement – Part 1 of 3

Walls.

Meant to keep out.

Meant to keep in.

Coronavirus (COVID-19) kept out.

All of us kept in.

Walls divide.

Walls protect.

Is the boundary good?

Is the boundary bad?

If vulnerable and unloved, how can safety be found?

If kept safe and loved, how can free-roaming be practiced?

What lessons we learn,

What answers we get,

We are doing it together.

 

In light of the suffering and shutdowns this week, I’m doing a little thinking and sharing in three posts. Thanks for joining in.

I’m spending a lot of time praying. My prayers are for the world, so I’m praying for you, too.

 

My Passion

From a young age, I’ve seen the world through eyes easily delighted.
Knowing there is a Creator has only intensified the delight, because I can see Him behind beauty of all kinds.
Behind light.
Behind order.
Behind details.

If strings from each and every year of my short life were tied to one thing,
it would be to my delight shared with the Creator.
He shows me something—points to it like a Father, or a close friend—then we look at it and I tell Him how beautiful, or cool, or awesome, or fascinating it is.
Rinse. Repeat.
A strange waltz.

Sometimes what He shows me can’t stay just between us.
That’s where my waltz with Him becomes something for others to see: I write.
Like a drink offering, I pour it out.
Raw,
gutsy,
funny,
painful,
peaceful,
healing,
I take what He gives, birth it out, and share it.

If I try to keep the stories for myself, they burn my chest.
They roil in my stomach.
They churn in my mind.
I can almost see them.
Almost touch them.

I’ve learned, though, if I will listen to God’s leading and
put it into something I can share, He will allow me to feel the relief of the after-birth.
The peace of creative-pushes being complete.
The wonder of watching other people draw near and experience Him.

His pleasure is in us doing this “together,” and we are.

Yes, my passion is telling the stories God has given me to tell.

 

endkevianaelliot