I am lost. I don’t belong here.
My wife asked me why I was going to the breath and the clay event. I said, I don’t know except I felt a ‘God prompt’ to go.
On arrival, I felt out-of-place. I am not one of them. I am diffused light. They are singular and bright.
I had others places I could be. Places where I am known, liked. Ministry I could have been a part of. Safe places.
I am not an artist.
A lady asked, so are you a photographer? I said, “No, not really but I do have a blog’. So you are a writer? ‘Honestly” I said “I don’t know what I am”.
I was once a singer songwriter. I was once a worship leader. Music was my creative expression to God but I don’t pick up my guitar any more. I don’t write songs anymore. I don’t hear melodies anymore. I am not a musician.
I dream of writing books, 3 books specifically. I dabble with blogs yet I never started the books that are in me. I am not a writer.
People thank me for ‘my ministry’ with The Kindling Fire. I tell people I don’t view it as a ministry, just an expression of myself in the world. The term ‘ministry’ does not set well with me anymore. My history of mixing personal ambition for limelight and stardom with “ministry” makes it a bitter pill. I am not a minister.
I love to create beautiful things with pictures on my phone but come on, they are pictures on my phone. The breath and the clay invitation was a crack in a door. People asked, so they are displaying your photography in the art gallery? Well yes but just one piece. So are you a photographer? no not really.
I dream of making a specific film that I have held for the last 20 yrs yet have not written a single line of the script. I am a dreamer maybe but I am not a filmmaker.
I am a fuzzy line among defined artist, dancers, authors, poets, photographers, musicians, painters, graphical artist and sculptors. Why did I come to such an uncomfortable event?
Hang in there this depressing blog gets better 😛
I listen to what the artist say from the stage. I hear my voice in them. I hear their self-doubt over what they are doing and why in me. I hear their desire for external approval in me. I hear creativity is their therapy. It helps them be more available to God and to others. I feel the same. I hear and know I am not alone in my confusing thoughts, inspirations, hopes, creative flashes, feelings and desires.
In the artist ‘green room’, I am turning a radio dial looking for a clear signal to come through to understand why God asked me to come.
Then the signal came through loud and clear like a song over the radio. ‘Daddy, are we friends?’ I stopped.
Seeing my face, she said it again, ‘I know you’re my Dad, but are we friends?’ Quickly, I give her the “right” answer I’ve heard others say. “No we are not friends. I mean I’m your Dad. You will not always like me as a friend when I tell you no. So we may not always be friends but I will always be your Dad and I love you.” I missed the moment.
I woke the next morning with this scripture in my heart. ‘I no longer call you…servants but I have called you my friends.’- John 4:3. My daughter is one of the few who see the really silly, immature, stupid humor side of me. We laugh so much. I stupid dance in the kitchen when no one else can see me but her to make her laugh. When I’ve had too much caffeine in the morning on my way to take her to school. I crack jokes, one-liners, weird comedy stuff, silly faces and we laugh all the way to school. There are very few who laugh at my weirdness or even see it but she does. It has been a gift of God to me to be my odd self, it be ok and just enjoy laughing for no reason.
Daughter you are my friend, I told her the next day. She replied, “Ok cool, but we aren’t bestie’s like Mom and I”. I laughed! 🙂
Thank you God for bringing me to the Breath and the Clay event to allow space for that conversation to happen. To allow time and space for my daughter and I just to enjoy each other’s company with little to nothing on the agenda. Later that day at the artist meet and greet, a young couple came by my photo with a beautiful 5 month old baby girl. We chatted and then the Mom started to tear up. She said, I sat behind you and your daughter last night and God showed me what our future would look like. The way your daughter looks at you and how you two interact, I knew my girls would have that with my husband one day. We will share our hearts with our children, like I see between you two. It was a God moment. My daughter and I prayed for them on the spot.
Afterward, my daughter & I went into the main auditorium. Being her quirky self, she did not read the serious artist directions on the spiritual exhibit about writing lies on paper that dissolve in water and Gods truth on rocks. So beside the “Child Faith Warrior” rock, she penned these words…”What’s Good?” I’m sure that ministered deeply to someone, I am still laughing about it.
I still don’t know where I totally fit or if I fit with ‘artists’ at all. But I fit with God as a son. I fit in my family as a husband and father. That is enough for me.
I am found.
**Special thanks to Mykell Wilson for our convo, showing my daughter God can be in the entertainment industry as well as remembering my daughters name throughout the event, it made her day!
***Lastly, thankful to witness Stephen Roach (guy behind tb&tc and makers&mystics podcast) present to his daughter the good news, she had raised enough money to build a water well in Africa called ‘God Provides’. It was a special moment. Wow!