birmingham – rebekah.eckard

One year ago today, I started a challenge to cut back on my consumption, and spend at least fifteen minutes every day creating. There were no other parameters. I could knit. I could draw. I could write. Yes, I would write. I didn’t know if I would make it through a whole year, but I thought I could try. So I spent the last year establishing a habit of creativity.

And let me tell you friend, this is a habit I will cultivate the rest of my life.

In the beginning, there were days where sitting down to write seemed like the hardest thing I could ever to do. There were nights where I would come home, and I just wanted to fall asleep. But I didn’t do that. I pulled out my computer, and I forced my keyboard to form pictures out of words.

And it has changed the way I live each day.

Now, I know I’m prone to hyperboles, so some of you may not be believe me when I say this. However, my hope is that by the end of this blog/rant you may grasp the tremendous effect of a small habit. My hope is that you may be encouraged to do the same as I did. To pick up a paintbrush. To put your words down on a page. To do whatever it is your hands have been tingling to create.

So, you want proof, right? How did this silly little habit change my life? I took a long list of twelve, and narrowed it down to two things that this habit of creativity is teaching me. Neither one has anything to do with skill or craft mastery, because that is not what’s important. I’m not asking you to spend time creating so that you can be a better artist (although that will indeed happen), but because I know that along the way you will grow more in love with your Maker, his creation, and -dare I say it- yourself. So, without further ado…

2 things Creativity is teaching me.

1. There is still magic to be found in this broken world.

I mentioned a few moments ago that when I first began this endeavor, I struggled with what to write about. It would take me an entire month to write a poem. I didn’t know how to generate ideas. My friends will tell you I’m a do-er. Give me a task and I become a horse with blinders. The end is all I can see, and I’m going to run as fast as I can to get there. But that’s now how Creativity works. You can’t force it. It’s not something you can mark off your to do lists.

Creativity for me is a lot like Pokemon Go. (I bet you never saw that sentence coming.) You can’t sit in your house on your computer and wait for cute little monsters to show up at your doorstep. You have to go out into the world and walk around a bit. Only instead of searching for Pokemon, you’re searching for beauty – for magic. You’re searching for something that makes your heart sing. And when you find it, pull out that Poke Ball and capture it (which is easier said than done, I know). Stick it in iPhone Notes App and let it grow. Collect more, and let them grow. They will evolve and become stronger and more beautiful. And then, that’s when you share them. Because beauty is a lot like the little boy with two fish and five loaves. When you have something to offer, you may not think it’s enough, but offer it up anyways. And the next thing you know, it’s the hands of One who can take your small offering and feed a crowd of thousands. The more beauty is shared, the more it multiplies.

So when the shopkeeper down the street is laughing loudly with his brother like an unhindered child, catch it. When the sun makes the cobblestone streets glow a dull pink color just before sunset, catch it.

Because YES, in the midst of all the bombings and strife and wars and hate-filled speeches, there is still beauty to be found. I’ve seen it. I’ve experienced it. And I want to share it. I want to bring it out of the background of our photographs and into the forefront of ours minds. When we have long forgotten about our Maker and Savior, it is beauty that can bring us back. It is beauty that can give us hope, that just maybe, things won’t always be this way. Could it be that there’s more to this life than toil and pain?

Yes. And I’ve got Poke balls full of moments to prove it.

My iPhone Notes App is filled with lines of poems I have yet to finish. (It’s kind of a mess, really.) In between grocery lists and to do lists and all sorts of lists, I’ll find these little gems: two or three lines of a poem or a song, or an idea for a short story that I typed out while waiting in line or walking home from work. I’m learning to channel a simple moment into verse. You don’t have to “catch em all”, but what if you just started just searching for one?

2. There is no such thing as failure.

Before this year, I had never tried watercolor. I had always loved the feeling of brush stroke swishing across a page, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be good at it. Now is the time when I would very much like want to go off on a philosophical tangent about what “being good at” something even means, but I won’t do that. Because frankly, it doesn’t matter. You see, it doesn’t matter if your flowers look like mud puddles when you draw. Do you enjoy it? Wonderful, then draw. If it is moral and physically/financially possible for you, and you enjoy it -whatever “it” is- then do it. It doesn’t matter if you’re good at it. What matters is that it’s good for you.

That’s what I love about art really. It’s so gracious. Art by very definition is experimental. It molds over time and with each person who handles it. It doesn’t judge but simply submits itself to whatever the artist needs from it. Art doesn’t seek results, it seeks transformation. It seeks communication. Any criticism that we receive comes not from the our creation, but from ourselves. This year, I have learned to accept that I am human. In fact, I’ve learned to enjoy it. This life-long learning curve can be fun if you free yourself from this silly idea of perfection.

I’ve been wanting to write “A Fortress for Aeda” for years. I kept myself from it, because I knew I would never be as good as C.S. Lewis. I’m not kidding; that’s why I didn’t write. I was embarrassed that I would never be the writer that he is. And while I still treasure him as a writer, I’m learning to love myself as a writer as well. I like the way I see things. I like that I’m a cynic who writes fairy tales. And I believe that the stories I’m writing needs to be heard, just as I believe ~~every child~~ everyone should read the Chronicles of Narnia.

I’m going to tell my stories with all the beauty and charm and goodness that I can muster. And that is enough.

In short, this year I realized that being a dreamer was a good thing, because dreamers see the world as it will be. And I am learning how to take those dreams and slowly bring them into being. And yes, I’m probably not going to be the next Lewis. But when we stop defining success as a destination and more of journey, then we don’t have to be afraid of failure because it won’t exist. But if we simply strive to call beauty out from it’s hiding place, then every day we can work with joy knowing that what we have to offer matters.

Oh, and my big announcement?

A Fortress for Aeda is currently going through (and has been for several months) some very intensive rewriting and editing sessions. She’s getting new chapters and her old ones are getting reworked because, well, I’m going to publish her.

The goal is to have “A Fortress for Aeda” out by Thanksgiving. (Okay, Christmas at the very latest).

A year ago, I’d barely written anything. I just had this dream of one day writing a novel. Maybe. And I’ve still got so far to go. But I’m taking hold of my dream. I’m working towards it. And it started with 15 minutes.

So, please friend. Start today. Right now. Pull out those pencils, go buy that new watercolor pallet, start that story you’ve been writing in your head. Get your hands dirty with beauty.

You have the time. You have the creativity (I promise you). And you can not fail.

Allison Thurman is family. She’s one of my people. When I met her in Community Group less than a year ago, she didn’t talk that much. But one day she mentioned that she painted and I was like “oh, cool. I painted in college too.” Then I went to her house, and y’all this girl PAINTS. That’s when I began to see who she really was. Like I said, she doesn’t talk much, but when she talks, it’s spot on every time- sheer brilliance. And when I talked her into showing up some of her paintings, she said- and I quote- “I’m not really much of a writer.” LIES. ALL LIES. So take some time and let this girl speak to your soul. It’s like everything I’ve ever tried to say on this blog can be summed up into her words. What’s that thing that Goethe used to say? You should read and look at something beautiful every day? Well friends, you can knock both of those out here. Allison Thurman, y’all. She’s the real deal.

When Your Art Becomes Your Worship (by Allison Thurman)

I never really remember a switch going off when I started loving the arts. It was a natural accumulation of events that led me to start creating. At first, it was black and white drawings. Some time later, I took a group painting class where I first encountered oil paints. Then for about 5 or 6 years I really didn’t do any art voluntarily. I had art classes in school, but that was nothing out of the norm. Then in my sophomore year at Texas Tech, I needed an elective so I took Intro to Drawing. Most of the class consisted of pencil and charcoal drawings, with a focus on very basic technical rules of art such as perspective and lighting. In what free time I had in college I enjoyed painting, but my focus was on other things. I have only just begun over the past year to truly appreciate art and am still discovering the meaning of it. I hesitate to even call myself an artist simply because it is something that I am just beginning to explore and dip my toes into and I really don’t have any formal training. Art is my escape, a stress reliever, a way to focus on something that I do for myself. Art is an instrument of healing. As a nurse, I can often get so caught up in the wellbeing of others that I forget to search myself and care for my own emotional wellbeing. Art allows me to escape and renew my soul by meditating on the truths of Christ. It allows you to escape the black and white of the world and see the color in the world that Christ has placed for our joy and His glory. However, the more I dip my toes in it and experiment with art, the more spiritual analogies I see in it. Discovering these has made me love it that much more! To me, art is no longer simply about the end product, but more importantly about the process of creating and exploring; it is about self discovery. Painting is a process, a process in which there are no rules or limitations. Anything is possible. Each brushstroke is a decision-whether intentional or not, yet you never know what will happen until you jump in and do it, just starting anywhere. Progress requires action- it probably wont be perfect, but it can be perfected. In discovering art, you have to remember the old ways, but try new ways. It is essential in progress. We must always move forward, fighting against the easy, the known, the natural. It takes time, courage and risk, but it has potential to alter creations forevermore. I can say with certainty that I have yet to create something that is perfect. There is always something that bugs me. But such it is with sanctification. We are messy human beings that will never be perfected, despite our best efforts, until the day which our creator restores our souls and the earth is made new. My comfort zone became art realism in oil paintings. However I make myself branch out and try other mediums such as acrylics with different gels to add texture. Another favorite is chalk art and calligraphy if I’m in the mood for something more relaxed. I’m always listening to music when I creating art- usually worship music or something like Ben Rector. I find it very hard to create something beautiful if the whole body is not involved. The mind, hands, and spirit must unite to express itself through a beautiful creation. Calligraphy and lettering is a lot like singing. It allows you to preach truths to yourself that your head knows but heart is struggling to believe. To me, it is a process of trusting, believing the unseen, the uncertainties. It is often meditation and prayer. I cant remember a time when I lettered a scripture or lyric that my heart was battling and didn’t walk away with my heart more at rest with the promises of Christ. I always find it funny (and is sometimes frustrating :p) that I like art, considering I certainly have a type A personality. My mind operates on science and facts. I like order, planning, and very rarely act upon emotion. I have to teach myself that it is ok for everything to not be perfect. That imperfection is beautiful in light of the gospel. Although it is a stretch, I have to force myself to participate in abstract art. Abstract art is not about defining specific things or ideas, but letting your heart take natural form- you just have to let it flow out. It teaches you to embrace that which you can not control, to open up and express your emotions on the canvas. I learn that art is an extension of God’s creation. Art is worship. It is allowing the Spirit to flow out of you, being vulnerable, make the unexplainable and non-tangible take form. When creativity flows out of intimacy with God, it speaks for the emotions and hopes of our hearts. It makes that which is hard to express, stated without words. And it moves others to experience something outside of themselves. So my challenge to you is next time you need your heart to believe in the truth of scripture, lose yourself in the creative process of art. Use it as an act of surrender to our Father. This will take a different form for everyone, but do something that stretches you just a little. For all spiritual, physical, and personal growth takes a little bit of getting out of our comfort zone and experiencing something new. Create something new as a reflection of the newness Christ has created in you and a representation of the hope of the day in which all will be made new, letting the Spirit open your heart and lead you to experience Him in a new way.