Soul deep.

“The most beautiful people wear their hearts on their sleeves, and their souls in their smiles ...” 
I read this quote recently and it stopped me dead in my tracks because I remembered:

I struggled in school..not necessarily academically (although often times that was the case in subjects I was uninterested in), I struggled most as an empath...as an artistically inclined personality and abstract thinker in the concrete mindset that is often private school. I remember my mom being honest with me my 9/10th grade year about the feedback from one of the teachers she’d conferenced with concerning my status as a student. She said, “Ms. ‘So and so’ said that your “problem” is that you wear your heart on your sleeve. That you’re going to have to learn to toughen up and stop being so sensitive.” My “problem”? As if being a tender, sensitive soul in a broken world was somehow wrong. I don’t know to this day what my Mom’s feelings were, (because I never asked) I do know this, I was too immature then to realize that Ms. ‘So and so’s’ advice had more to do with her own heart than it did mine. I did (embarrassingly) try her advice out for several years and it was miserable, not just for me but for those around me. It severed friendships and left me empty. See, insensitivity is not a personality trait I was given when God created and formed me. Pretending and using my imagination has always been an outlet for me, but not in this case. Trying to be someone you were never created to be is like wearing a suit that doesn’t fit. And let me tell you, after trying that particular suit on, I had no intention of tailoring it to fit the opinions of that said teacher... or others for that matter. Especially after I paid the price of trying to conform. 

In an effort to conform, I earned the stripes of rightful criticism from peers and the deserved judgement that one receives when acting like a jerk. 

My mom finally allowed me to switch schools after a long talk and several dramatic attempts to gain a fresh start. 

In that fresh start, I found my tribe of wallflowers....A tribe of liberals, full of open-mindedness, and acceptance of a fellow troubadour who wears their heart on their sleeve and has an intolerance for bull crap. I found a tribe of people who have lived, seen, and heard the unspoken; and for some of us, survived the the unbearable pain of things far beyond our years. 

Today, after a lifetime of things that could have made me a bitter human being, I am thankful that the silver lining in it all is this- I caught an early glimpse of the destruction that bitterness creates. 

I hope that somehow through it all, this road my maker has asked me to walk has made me a better, less bitter human being. If nothing else, I know that it has taught me that wearing your heart on your sleeve might make some humans uncomfortable, but that’s okay- Healing isn’t always soft and tender, it’s often in contrast. What that suggestion from one bitter teacher has taught me is that wearing my heart on my sleeve can often times provide empathy- an unspoken notion of, “I see you and I’ve been there too.” Or sometimes it’s simply a silent cry for help to those who can hear the words that you’re unable to communicate. 

It’s the reality that others have been there. It’s the sobering truth that being something or someone who isn't you causes more damage than the healing that vulnerability allows. 

For me, looking back, it was also this: An unspoken notion from my mother which stated, “You are strong and I believe that you are mature enough to handle the ugly truth of humanity well beyond your physical years.” So thank you to the teacher who tested my strength but even more thanks to my mother who knew my strength and trusted in my wisdom.❤️
So I leave you with this tender souls; Beauty, in it’s rawest form, is always soul deep.

On reminiscing and looking ahead....

I stumbled upon this picture while trying to find photos of my art for an upcoming art endeavor.
A feeling of nostalgia washed over me like a calm wave on an easy summer day, but I was quickly engulfed by an undertow of emotions as I thought about all that this picture represented.
I reminisced the days of being a single mom in a two bedroom condo- The too-frequent moments I felt abandoned, helpless, frightened, and grieved as a mother for the hearts of my children. A time when art was the only way to speak because the words wouldn’t come; when my art supplies fit into a small, brown wicker basket and my studio was a cozy, little corner on the kitchen floor. A place where redemption was found and grace abounded greater than the oceans tides.
There were parts of myself I let go of with unclenched fists as the sound of the lock clicked shut on the door to that season of our life in what we referred to as our  little “shoebox”, but what I gained and carried with me from that season has opened new doors to places, people and circumstances that have given me eyes to see and a heart to share. It’s a beautiful reminder to me of why Paul instructs us to rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and give thanks in all circumstances.
There’s so much to be gained when we “let go” with unclenched fists to make room for what God has in store our lives.
I can’t wait to share the finished product of some of the commissioned pieces I’ve been working on. However, today I wanted to share my heart, because there are a couple of things in the works that I can rest assured are parts of a bigger picture of God’s sovereignty over circumstances I once questioned, but continued to trust him through.
My hope is that somehow sharing these words will be an encouragement to you today.