I Am Running to the Trysting Place.

By night on my bed I sought Him,

He Whom my soul loveth so.

I sought–but I could not find Him,

And now I will rise and go–

 

Out in the streets of the city,

And out on the boad highway;

For He Whom my soul so loveth,

Hath left me and gone away.

 

The page in the little song book ended there, and she did not turn the leaf. Suddenly she could bear the uncertainty no longer. She must see for herself at once if He really had gone away and left her behind. She slipped out of bed, dressed herself as quickly as her shaking fingers would permit, and then unlocked the cottage door. She, too, would go out into the street and the broad highway and would see if she could find Him, would see if He had gone and left her behind, or–oh, if only it were possible–if He had waited to give her another chance.

–Hannah Hurnard,  ”Hinds Feet On High Places”

We are Hosea’s Wife.

I’ve been off work the last week with strep throat. And I’ll admit, I had such a stressful time at work the week before that I actually welcomed the off time. I’ve had lots of free time for a bit of vegging out through a few seasons of a sci-fi series on Netflix. Doctor Who. Very good. It starts out goofy, but stick with it, it’s worth it. But that’s not the point–the point is this disillusionment, this restlessness, this constant pursuit and growing desire that is growing and growing. a part of me wants to fight it, to wrestle against it, and I do. with all the same usual little distractions. And all the while I wrestle against Love, clinging to my little crumbs and shadows and smoke, thinking myself content with my one little drop, while I am pursued by the wide, endless ocean that I know I was made for. And even so, while I still wrestle against it, back and forth, there is me, the real me, locked away deep inside, that desperately wants the One who pursues me to win.

In Which Amber Designs And Dreams Of Flight

I submitted my design for Priscilla Ahn’s new album. She had a contest Her new album is entitled "When I Grow Up," and she wants the cover to be inspired by children’s book illustrations, Miyazaki films, or the mori girl style (japanese for “forest girl”. I figured if I couldn’t design something like this, something that’s exactly my style, exactly what inspires me, too, then I might as well just go home. lol. I couldn’t not do this. Priscilla’s music reminds me of my golden afternoons outside with Tiny, swinging on my tire swing and pretending I had wings. So I painted exactly that.

 

 

The image makes me feel quite happy on its own, regardless of anything else. It felt like very good therapy, right here a year after Tiny’s passing. Whether someone wants it on her album or not, this is special to me. It’s full of my heart. It’s about reckless love and daydreams and hope and flight and books and magic. You know it’s full of your heart when you fight back tears while you’re sketching the rough draft. *O_O*

I’ve been daydreaming about what I would do with the prize money if I won. It would have to be something extremely special, and it would have to send me to the sky. When I was a little girl, I remember standing on a chair in the nonfiction section, looking for books about flight after having read Jane Langton’s "The Fledgling", a story about a girl who could fly. So I found "Jonathan Livingston Seagull." And I read it, all of it, ten years old, sitting in the wooden chair amongst the stacks in the library. And then I found a book on hang gliding. And I promised myself that one day, when I grew up, I would fly. So you see. If I should win the cover design for Ahn’s "When You Grow Up", the prize money will help me to take to the sky. I’m serious, people.

Oh, oh. dreaming all day…I am afraid to get my hopes up. The contest had over three hundred submissions, and there are some very pretty ones in there that have that nice minimalistic mori girl thing going on that mine doesn’t exactly have. Oh well. It is still pretty neat that Priscilla Ahn herself will have looked at my artwork. And I got 5 star user ratings, which blew my mind. And my design was on the front page of Creative Allies as a featured creation, which blew my mind again. How cool is that? That’s a nice confidence boost that I honestly needed very much.

 

I am going to tweak and improve my pretty picture and frame it (the original version without the masking tape and words), a daily visual reminder of all that it stands for. Thank you, dear Tiny. And thank you, Priscilla Ahn, for the inspiration and opportunity!

Forgiving myself, and self portraits

So I have to forgive myself again. For wasting a year. Quit beating myself up about it and move on. Quit waiting to live and wake up. Quit waiting for a degree to be successful and get confident. I have to go through the whole unraveling again. I began yesterday, the familiar breakthrough of looking at myself in the mirror and smiling at the strangely beautiful, worthwhile face that smiled back at me. I’m loved. Just chewing on that one, once again, for a while.

I’m reading this book by Liz Lamoreaux. It’s called “Inner Excavation: Explore Your Self Through Photography, Poetry and Mixed Media”. It’s nice. It’s just a book about giving yourself the license to be creative instead of silencing yourself out of fear. Through self portraiture, words, and art. Makes me want to be that bright-eyed girl wearing paint-spattered tank top and jeans and colorful, jangly jewelry that I know I am.

So I photographed my day today. Morning coffee. Petting the cat. Self-portraits in the mirror. Shopping. “Clean Me” written in the dust on the dashboard of my car. It felt wonderfully good.

I actually had a fabulous time finding and editing photos from my day. And I, in turn, had a lovely day. Photographing the everyday sacred things of my life, including myself, may very well be a new hobby for me. I actually feel loved and pretty and myself in front of the camera. Thank you, Liz Lamoreux.

Layers

Today feels like Day 1 for me. Again. I wonder how many times in life this happens. Layers and layers.

“Oh—wait, that’s right. I was stripped and unraveled and then I picked the layers back up and hid myself inside the same things all over again. Wasted, you’ve wasted another year, Amber.”

Shame. That’s shame talking.

I’m reading this book. It’s called “The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed To Be and Embrace Who You Are.” It’s written by a shame researcher. She interviews people who live wholehearted, authentic lives, then she interviews people who are tripped up on shame, identity issues, and disconnection, and then she categorizes it all together in little lists with descriptions of what works and what doesn’t, all nice and organized-like. When she describes joyful, authentic people, she mentions vulnerability, an identity that is not led around by the nose by shame, and love, always love. Everything I’ve read so far about her descriptions of authentic living I’ve concurred with—“Yes, that’s what it’s like; it’s like that.” Except there’s this one thing that I would like to add to that. I know this is not a spiritual book. It’s just a handy self-help book. But I can’t help looking at it through the lens of my own experience.

What I’ve read so far is on the right track, surely, but gosh, with God, this can actually happen overnight. Do you understand what I’m saying here? (Please note that I am 85% talking to myself at this point. Remember, Amber? Remember this? Believe it again. Let go of these layers.) If you believe that God is who He says He is, and consequently you are who He says you are, if you allow yourself to be stripped down to the vulnerable soul (who you really are, the precious part), beneath the layers of pride and shame and sin, and you make the exchange, the shame is gone. Bam. Gone. Free. In an instant. Believe. All those layers of shame, pride, selfishness, unworthiness, and sin are not who you are. There’s a beautiful soul beneath all the layers that is the real you, the one that God sees that is precious and loved and worthy. Know that these things are not who you are. Know that the God of the universe wants to intimately know the beautiful soul hidden beneath the sin, but He will not make you move. Respond to Him. In Christ’s death, the layers are ripped away. In Christ’s resurrection, the precious soul is revealed as a son or daughter of God, stands up, and walks, free, in Christ.

That. is the very basics of Christianity. This book coaches you into getting to that place of vulnerability. It takes you only to the edge of the cliff. But oh–that’s just the beginning when you factor in God’s Love for you instead of just your own imperfect, poor sort of love for yourself. It is a beautiful miracle, an indescribable awakening. It’s difficult to allow ourselves to become that vulnerable, but vulnerable we must be. Sometimes it’s not overnight. Sometimes it’s a slow peeling away of layer after layer. Layer 1 might be letting go of placing your identity in education or career, like I did. Layer 2 might be unforgiveness that needs to be let go. Layer 3 might be an addiction. Be vulnerable. And then grit your teeth and hold still as the layers are stripped away. It’s not a terrible thing. It’s just necessary. At the end of the layers is childlike vulnerability and belief that God really is who He says He is, and you really are who He says you are. Free. And it’s worth the risk of becoming vulnerable. It is far more painful to remain tight as a bud than it is to risk blossoming.

“To dare is to lose one’s footing momentarily.  To not dare is to lose oneself.”  – Soren Kierkegaard

Ah…I remember now. How it all comes pouring out of me. I’m glad we had this conversation.

What happened.

I spent a good part of yesterday morning trying to figure out exactly where I went wrong. I looked back at previous blog posts, reading the beautiful entries that described my unraveling, my waking up, my deconstruction, my cracking open, my identity shift, my coming home to myself—people have called it many names. I hope you understand what I mean. That let-go-of-everything, Extreme Makeover Home Edition deconstruction and rebuilding that has to happen to your soul, but you have to consciously, willingly go there. It’s. just. necessary. To be a Whole person.

I was soaring, blossoming, and growing. Just look at some of this:

(edited for relevancy and time, click the titles to view the entire entries)

August 7, 2009. Let It Go

For five years, I’ve been consumed with choosing the perfect major and getting a degree…  I was worth nothing if I didn’t get my degree.  “If I could just get the right degree,” I thought, “life will finally begin for me, and I’ll be free to live–independent and happy.” Funny that I thought of a degree as freedom.  I was, instead, miserably bound by my desire for it without really realizing it.

I’m not sure when it happened.  It has quietly dissipated in the back of my mind, so quietly that I barely noticed it was gone.

I don’t [need] it.

If I never, ever get a degree in anything, it’ll be okay.  I don’t have to prove myself to the world, to my family, to myself, or to God.  I have actually let it go.  Not that I won’t still get a degree someday, but I no longer have a psychologically-driven need for it anymore—I’m free.

Shortly after this, I wrote this most precious entry:

October 26, 2009. To Believe is to Begin

Something Beautiful is happening to me.

It’s my season to finally, finally blossom.  I just know it.  Everything is rearranging.  my perspective.  my very identity.   My identity is not in my education.  Or my career.  Or who likes me or doesn’t like me.  Or in the things I have and like.  Or in a boy’s love.  It’s not even in what I do at all.  My emotions are not who I am.  What I do is not who I am. That changes everything! Without all these things hanging on me, it suddenly becomes surprisingly probable that the person hidden beneath the sin and emotions and works could very possibly be exactly who He says I am.  All those crazy things He calls me that, deep down, I never really believed–a daughter of a king, loved, never forsaken, righteous, holy, a saint–suddenly becomes…possible.

All this time, God has had His hand on me.  He’s heard my every prayer throughout these years, even when I didn’t think He was hearing me at all, even when I thought He was mad at me for always messing up.  All I knew to do was to tryhardertryharder maybemaybemaybe anditnever worked….

…I knew there had to be more to it than all these little reasons for religion that aren’t all that different from anyone else’s religion.  We’re not supposed to live with such brokenhearted lives.  And that’s it–that’s the point, the gospel, the GOOD NEWS is that WE DON’T HAVE TO LIVE THAT WAY.  Trying and trying to jump over a bar that is impossibly high in order for a sinful human to know a holy God is what JESUS FIXED 2000 years ago.  We don’t have to keep running and asking for God to forgive us every time we sin in order to “activate” God’s forgiveness on a daily basis.  HE ALREADY HAS.  IT. IS. FINISHED.  That IS the Good News.  That is the foundation of Christianity!  …Why are people not shouting this from the rooftops?

Who in their right mind would let go of such genuine self-worth, authenticity, and love? I was Real. what happened?  Now I understand that there are bouts of murkiness, of darkness, and lack of clarity where you have to just keep stepping forward in faith without any feeling of going forward at all, but that’s not what this was. The very next entry tells me a lot:

November 4, 2009. So Much At Once

So I’ve got too many projects going on at once.  I’m adding more content to the site I’ve been working on, brainstorming and photoshopping designs for things I will make for an online shop, Discovering the Writer Within in 40 Days, working on the handmade signs to sell locally, and reading a giant stack of fairy tales.

Well it might not be that much.  It’s when I try to do them all at once that it feels overwhelming.

It was little things. just. little things. that’s it. nothing else, nothing really big. Little harmless things. It started in my mind. I began thinking about hobbies. art. writing. I felt like I was o.k., and my thoughts slowly began to shift from Truth, Beauty, Mystery, and Love to swap-bot.com, fairy tales, mail art, and photoshop. Like smoke slowly trickling into your room beneath your door. My identity collapsed back into what I do is what makes me who I am, and I began to forget—began to completely forget the things that I had believed, the joy I had found. Nothing was left but frustration and confusion…it gets…foggy. when you lose belief. just. fog. an inexplicable spiritual amnesia. And when I got a job that I liked, I suddenly felt I had to rush off and get a degree in that field to validate it. the same thing. all over again.

So now I have to unravel all over again. Begin to believe the same things again. No—I mean believe. One truth after the other, one at a time, again.

Jeez.

So that’s how it is. A part of me wants to kick myself. Really hard. In the rear. Over. and over. again. but I’ve got to move on from that, too, and begin with Now.

This Moment is the only ounce of time any of us will ever hold. That’s where God is, that’s where we are. stay—stay there, Amber, and unravel again.

Ten Million Fireflies

I’d like to make myself believe

That planet Earth

turns–

[slowly]

– Owl City

The view from my bed at night. I know I am such a kid. But don’t you like it, anyway?

Peppermint Winter

We had this big snow storm last night. I live in an area that doesn’t get a lot of snow, so 5-8 inches is a big deal for me. It’s the first time I’ve really had a snow that was quite perfect for making snowmen and having snowball fights. I spent the day playing outside in my own little world just like I did as a kid. I’m thankful for this beautiful snow. It turns my entire world into something magical and beautiful. I played outside in the shadow of the old walnut tree that I played under as a child. It felt really good, in a different sort of way, but still good.

 

This here is Lumpy the Snowman. My first proper snowman, ever. He is sporting a Mad Hatter hat from the Tim Burton film this year.

 

This poor fellow was hit by a car. I know this idea is done to death but I’ve never had the opportunity to make something like this, and I wanted to, so there.  Wait–I can’t move my car now…

 

This swimming snowman is being chased by a shark. See the shark’s dorsal fin there? And note the shock and horror on Mr. Snowman’s face as he faces his final moments. Yes, I totally stole this from Calvin and Hobbes, but it needed to be in our front yard.  Building a snowman is fun, but building one that makes a passerby do a double take in either shock, confusion, humor, or horror is so much more fun. :3

This is my year. Love is still waiting.

Oh.

I can’t even begin to explain where I am right now. Where to start?

Listen to this. After graduating high school, I worried and worried over my graphic design degree, running in circles and running in and out of money to fund it without taking out excessive loans. Waiting to live until I got my graphic design degree. I eventually decided that I needed to let graphic design go, because I had placed my identity in it. A year ago, I took a break from college and focused on God, on waking up, on living authentically, I spiritually flourished—this blog is a witness to that. Then I got a job and plunged into another degree related to that job—and the spiritual blossoming wilted. I felt like I spiritually deflated. Sputtered and died and lay there for a while.

So this past year, I haven’t blogged because I haven’t grown. There was simply nothing to write about, except for confused frustration. I was just numbly doing my job and going to bed and getting up and doing it all again. I didn’t understand what on earth was holding me back or exactly where I went wrong or why my belief and faith had wilted into such a desperate condition. It was deeper than just graphic design. It was a degree, period. I struggled with and recently confronted my feelings of failure, and slowly came to the realization just how much of my life I had given to a degree. Traded confidence, independence, creativity, courage, identity, for a lousy piece of paper.

There’s nothing wrong with degrees. But I placed my self worth and confidence in a degree. I was waiting on a degree to give me my worth, to save me, to give me independence and freedom and creativity and a life.

On the day before tuition was due, all this clicked in my head. I abruptly dropped it all with a great and beautiful crash.

I felt a little guilty. All the imaginary What People Will Think people in my head were shaking their heads and tsk tsking at me. But I didn’t care. The freedom outweighed the guilt by far. I’m free. Ha ha! Do you understand how this feels? This doesn’t own me any more. I’m free to believe again. I am a whole person without an education. I will be ok if I never get a degree. My confidence and self worth is in my hands again. I feel light, I feel like flying. My cup is filling, my identity is free to shift to who I am supposed to be. I’m talented. I am creative. A spark of confidence is growing inside of me. I am beautifully incomplete. I am okay.

And there is wind in my sails. I am working two jobs, one of which is at the library, where I will most certainly stay, but my entire world will not crash if I do not work there. I am saving my money. I am teaching myself Indesign and Photoshop. I am buying books on typography, color theory, layout/gridwork, and creative confidence. If I cannot find a job, I will make one. I will live. I will live with my whole heart. creatively. authentically. I have let go of what I have held on to for so many years, and I am free to cling to God.

You have to understand that this is what I am happy about—I have let go of what that was keeping me from God, my father, my comforter, my friend.

There He is—I can see Him again, and the belief is now flooding back into my heart because I am no longer clinging to education and career for my identity. I can breathe again. I feel safe again, alive again. It is like coming home. I am back to the never-ending depths of coming home to Love.

New Years 2011

Notable things that happened to me in 2010:

• I discovered Swap-Bot.com and learned several new crafts
• Made friends with a stray cat on my birthday. She is now my sweet friend, Nora
• My best friend Tiny passed away
• I grieved
• I threw a Where the Wild Things Are party
• I bought a ukulele
• I learned about and made my own zine
• I got a job at the library
• I developed a cat population problem
• I threw a Mad Tea Party
• I played in the pool with my niece and nephew over the summer
• I worked and learned as much as I could, and began to take some online classes
• I solved my cat problem by adopting them out and fixing Nora
• I made some new friends
• My nephew punched the fifth grade bully in the face, and I was proud of him
• I learned a lot of things from an interpersonal communication class, and woke up a little.
• The wind in my sails died down, and I am now a lot less closer to Home than before. I want to come Home.

My conclusion: 2010 was a little bit sad and pathetic for me. Grieving and cats and the library and working a lot. That’s about it. Nice.