I find myself at a spot of questioning. Wrestling. This season has been difficult. So difficult that some days I'm not sure if it's good and some days I feel solidified that yes indeed this is the right path. Others remind me of this as well, that this journey may be hard but it's worth it and so I keep pressing forward. Present day circumstances not included, thing have been well but this journey I’m on digs deep into boxes I’ve locked up tight and put away never wanting to unearth again.
This journey has delved deep into my core, into my beliefs about myself and about my God.
It has rattled me, challenged me and made me ask far more questions than I feel like I have answers. But for the first time I’m asking questions. I can’t say that I’m not afraid of the answers because I am, but this time it’s not stopping me from asking. I’m trying to trust that God is big enough for my questions and patient enough for my constant questioning.
I feel like this should be an exciting time a time of celebration. Because I do feel like this is a remaking, but maybe first it’s an unmaking. A digging up and throwing out of lies and this while certainly it should be celebrated is exhausting and emotional and feels overwhelming. While these lies are being exposed, these are long held belief and for so long I've known them and they've felt safe, while even if it’s not the best, it seems hard to let go. Letting go of the lies gives view to the truth and the truth exposes my brokenness.
Sometimes the truth is more painful than the lie.
But maybe in the truth, even if it’s more painful at first? Forever? I don't know. Maybe only in the truth there is opportunity for healing, for growth, for remaking.
Sometimes when I draw I just don’t get it right, proportions or off or an unsightly mark is impossible to cover up. But I hate starting over. I hate going backwards. I hate U-turns.
So instead of starting it over I just keep going and attempt to turn a blind eye to what I know is wrong. I try to cover it up with more shading or I adjust proportions as best I can to make it comfortable. I finish it. Then I spend the next several days hating it. It’s not right and I know it. I try to convince myself it’s not as bad as it seems, I show it to others asking what they think and how it compares to my other work. I try to make this okay because starting over just seems like a lot of work.
Eventually though, I do start over, often grudgingly. This time I’m more careful in the proportions, I slow down, I take careful consideration in where the light comes from and where the shadows will form, I research, I study a true picture of what I’m drawing to see how to apply it to my piece.
Ultimately, I’m much happier with the second piece. It’s more true, more accurate to what it really is.
For a drawing the unmaking and remaking seems a bit insignificant.
Unmaking things I’ve tried to make ok for decades sometimes feel like the bottom drops out from under me. Beginning to realize something you believed for so long isn’t really true, it feels a bit like falling into nothing. When all my defenses are gone, all the excuses and reasonings begin to come up empty for holding on to something, the only option is to let go of something I’m realizing has never been true and discovering what really is true.
But the truth brings with it light and that light exposes all the pain, all the brokenness. It shed light on the pain I’ve tried so hard to keep hidden, to not admit, to not feel, to make comfortable.
So while right now truth brings light to pain, I’m trying to remind myself: new growth needs light.