The unexamined life is not worth living. –Socrates
I believe that. I believe that life is colorful and textured and thick, and that it needs to be sculpted into shape before it can truly be called art.
In other words, we need to take ownership of our own lives. We need to create and edit our experiences as artists do, in that thoughtful, highly intentional way of people who care about beauty and truth, about their power in mending this battered, broken world of ours. While all around us people are numbing their wounds with cheap anesthesia and slopped-on Band-Aids, we need to dive into that difficult process of recovery; we need to let the Lord–the only healer who matters–operate on our hearts, however much it hurts.
We need to take all of this–the pleasure, the pain, and everything in between–seriously.
This blog is an attempt to hold myself accountable to that. Left to myself, I’ll skim across life like a little Jet Ski, happy to weave around everyone else as I forge my own path of selfish fun. For a follower of Christ, I’m pretty good at wandering off. And for a writer, I’m awful at communicating–both with others and with myself. It’s easy for me to forget–or choose to ignore–the people around me, the passions inside me.
I can definitely identify with that whole head-in-the-clouds concept. Sometimes I feel I’m suspended in space, floating in that hazy stretch between this world and the next. I hope this blog will help tether me down to earth, and bridge the heaven and hell I hover between. I hope it will help me make sense of this flawed, fascinating life God has gifted me. I pray it will open my eyes to what he’s doing in my heart.
I’ve found that the more I examine my life, the more beautiful it becomes. So here’s to stopping, and staring, and painting life into the work of art it was always meant to be.