Brutality

I think I'm truly ready to dust this off. Partially because I have no one to talk to being in a new place and partially because I crave a creative outlet again. And I miss writing.
I was once trying to explain how a creative outlet aids me to someone and, in the process, realized its true significance and importance; it is quite literally an outlet. When I'm able to release whatever it is I'm struggling with through some creative means, it is like that "negative energy" (for lack of a better term) actually escapes my body, my being. I'm able to process it in a positive way and therein, turn it into something else; something not destructive. And in contrast, when there is no creative outlet, when there is no release of negativity, it has no where to go. And here it waits and festers, in my head and hopefully not eventually my heart.
So...in a way, God gave me a tool to deal with my struggles. Even if it doesn't literally change my circumstance, it changes my consciousness, my perspective; the holder of the power transfers from the struggle itself to me having power over it. Even if nothing actually changes in reality, what does change has almost more impact.
When that outlet doesn't exist? Well, then we have chaos. And that has been much of my past year; chaos. I feel like I end each year and begin each news letter to accompany our Christmas card with, "it's been a difficult year for us, but..." and one would hope for a break from difficult years. But that's not life. And in the difficulty is where real change and growth exists. But after awhile, the erosion begins to show. After awhile, you are tired.
I am tired. And don't really recognize myself anymore. One of the fires in my heart has gone out and I don't know how to reignite it.
And so I must create. Whether it's a blog no one ever reads or a painting no one ever sees, I must dust off this mind and heart of mine.
God makes no accidents. I know this time in the desert will change me in the best way; it already has, even if it has been the hardest year. It has brought me closer to Him. Because that's what brokenness does or should do. I literally have nothing else to cling to. And despite my thoughts of giving up art altogether, He always brings it back to me. Because this is who I was made to be and HOW I was made to be. Even if no one else ever knows or sees. He sees me.