When I feel like all the written words have been taken and there’s nothing new under the sun, I wonder why, why, why. And after a year of wanderings and wonderings, I come back to the same place and a resounding response: Because writing breathes life and hope and helps me to make sense of this crazy world and sometimes stories just need to be retold and recaptured to birth new life into cold, dry hearts. Because over and over and over again, we are called to remember. And when we we remember, we lift our heavy hearts, heavy heads, heavy hands to our Creator and we find our why and our words and our voice again. As I lift my empty cup, I begin to whisper, “Come, Lord Jesus. Fill me.”
In the silence of the year, I’ve read others’ words as I’ve questioned and wrestled and wondered about my life as an artist. Wise words have pushed me through the doubts and breathed new courage and new life into my questioning heart. So here’s to another year of new beginnings.
“Maybe instead of coming up with something new, I’m here to honor the truth of old, to hold the timeless realities close and live like they’re true for me.” ~Emily Freeman
“Always we begin again.” ~Saint Benedict