I struggle at times with who I am. Like a little girl with her nose pressed up on the cold glass, I peer into life from the outside. Wishing for more than what it is. A womb left hollow, empty from infertility. A dream buried deep and fear making it hard to uncover. Relationships laid low. The list is too long – the breaking too deep.
“You can give up the need to compete in the world when you can accept you are complete in Christ.”*
How do you feel complete when so much has felt unfinished? I have struggled to fill the cavernous holes with something, anything. I have ventured from one to another looking for fullness. More words pierce as she continues…
“Until you are ultimately known you are ultimately nomadic.”*
She knows me. I am cut to the core because she understands from where this heart travels. Only one who knows this path of want and wishing – whose feet have wandered along similar steps – can speak these words with a surgeon’s precision. She knows. Then the words of John the Baptist fall from her lips…
“Apart from the gifts that come from heaven, no one can receive anything at all.”
John 3:27 The Voice
I can barely exhale. My soul is impaled. Could it be – my life’s portion a gift?
You see all things; nothing about me was hidden from You. As I took shape in secret, carefully crafted in the heart of the earth before I was born from its womb…Every detail of my life was already written in Your book; You established the length of my life before I even tasted the sweetness of it.
Psalm 139:15, 16b (The Voice)
I was wrought in the darkness of the beginning. A work carefully crafted. A life fashioned for sweetness – His not mine.
A painter should begin every canvas with a wash of black, because all things in nature are dark except where exposed by the light.
Her words are His brushstrokes of Light and I begin to see what was hidden in the depths. The art is exposed. Beauty revealed. Redemption uncovered.
She prods me not to be “seduced by the myth of scarcity”* but to hold what I have been given in gratefulness.
Her words remind me to study the Artist and “to live in trustful awe of your abundant God.”* In the understanding of who He is I will come to know the art I am.
For we are the product of His hand, heaven’s poetry etched on lives, created in the Anointed, Jesus, to accomplish the good works God arranged long ago.
Ephesians 2:10 (The Voice)
The canvas does not create – it submits. It is only the Artist who can determine the completeness of His work and by His hands alone can the masterpiece is revealed.
So let it be in me.
*Words of Ann Voskamp