Fire Lights a Still Wick

“Anticipation is half the joy.” – My Granny, Margaret Sharkey

When I began the official Countdown to Hutchmoot 2012, I had over 200 days to go.  Now, finally, in 2 days, the countdown will be complete, and I and two of my closest friends will start the drive to Nashville, Tennessee.

Painting by Jan Jagoor, 17th Century

In truth, we have anticipated this trip for over 8 months, ever since Sara proposed the idea.  Now that the time has come, I feel such an energy, peace, and readiness to go!  Like Proverbs13:12b says, “A longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”  Its very sweetness has been propelling me through these last few days, in a dreamy flow of purchases, packing, and last minute details.

But you may be wondering, “What on earth is a Hutch-what?”

Well, I’ve never been to one, but I know it is a conglomeration of artists – painters, writers, singers, actors, dreamers – all captivated by the vibrant truth and glory of God, and all of whom are dedicated to expressing this truth and glory in the arts.  The community formed only a few years ago around a blog dubbed The Rabbit Room, named after the corner in The Eagle and Child, the pub where C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, and the other Inklings met weekly to share and discuss their current work.  These artists will be meeting for 4 days at Church of the Redeemer in Nashville for discussion, fellowship, concerts, and sessions with a few honored guest speakers.  Hutchmoot exists because these artists found such life and community through the blog that they decided online interaction wasn’t enough – they determined to convene in the first long weekend of fellowship and discussion in Fall 2010.

Little did I know two years ago in 2010 that this blog or group of people even existed!  I had just been out of college a few months, and had no idea engaging in anything bookish for at least a few more months.  If fact, I feel a little bit like a trespasser even now, for I have not participated in the online community, and did not even know it existed until last January.  I’ve spend the last few months catching up, however, and reading what feels like a wealth of poignant essays on life, art, joy, holiness, God, the maturing process, worldview, storytelling, and deep friendships – with a little bit of healthy whimsy thrown into the mix.  It has been phenomenally refreshing!  The blog displays such a kinship of people who share the vision of art in its truest form, radiant and sanctified.

I do not even know if I can express my tremendous anticipation of this time to be quiet, be among good fellowship, to soak in the glorious views of nature (I hear there will be hiking, woods, and wildlife around the home where we will stay, about 20 minutes outside of Nashville!), to dwell on art and learning, and to set aside time from my unpredictable schedule to spend some long, quiet hours with the Lord.  Additionally, Sara wisely proposed that after Hutchmoot, we drive a little further into Tennessee, into the heart of the beautiful mountains and forests, to spend a few days in a mountain home.  Once there, we will have no agenda, and no rush. 

Can I just say…I CAN’T WAIT!  I am so excited for this time of getting away!  So excited, I almost want to start planning and dreaming and making to-do lists for these days away – but I realize that is exactly what I don’t want to do.  Not this time.  This is a time for un-planned, lovely hours of quietness with the Lord, with my journal, and with my two dear friends.  So often, I am charged with the energies of efficiency, productivity, activities, deadlines, and timelines, that I find it hard to still my heart before the Lord.  And it is in that still place where I hear His voice, and where I find my own.  So much of art, for me, flows out of my soul only when it stills and softens, becoming quiet and receptive.

I was talking with the Lord earlier today about Hutchmoot, and I felt like He was gently filling me with this vision for the trip, saying:

     Rest. 

     Be quiet. 
     Be still. 
     Nothing has to happen. 
     Just us.
     Feel my presence.
     Ask for revelation of what to do.
     Love the land. 
     Soak it up. 
     Remember. 
     This will become a part of your memory cache. 
     Go slowly. 
     Take in time, textures, color, and words.
     FIRE LIGHTS A STILL WICK

Candlelight Study by Ozias Leduc

That thought captured my attention!  I love the flickering, warm light of a candle, and when I light the ones around my home, I find that I have great trouble getting the wick to catch the flame if I have forgotten to turn off the ceiling fans.  Even guarding the candle with my palm is often not enough to coax the little thing to catch.  So I turn off the fans, re-light the match, and the candle will finally do what it was made to do: shine.  In my own life, I am sometimes busy with a full schedule, but other times, when my calendar is more balanced, I often have a heart that is still busy with thoughts and plans and tasks and impressions.  How much like a wind it all is, keeping me going and moving and fluttery and even insensitive, sometimes, to the needs of others or the gentle voice of the Spirit – almost like a candle that won’t light.  I felt God gently encouraging me to cultivate a quiet soul, and the ability to turn off the “internal wind” like I turn off the fan switch, so He can light a new fire within me during this week.

 

So I have no idea what this weekend will be like, but I’m ready to embrace every moment, and drink it all in!  I know, first and foremost, that my own Maker goes before me, beside me, and behind me, and I’m listening to His voice within me.  And that is always the best part.

A Bold Resolution

Well, I’ve decided to begin battle with my perfectionistic tendencies immediately, by christening this blog with a very simple, un-edited post.

 

Let’s begin with the facts: I want to be a writer.  I want to proclaim the good news of the Lord, Jesus Christ, by telling His story, as seen in the Word, as seen in my life, and as seen in the thousand little glories He reveals to me each day through creation, relationships, and all sorts of methods.

 

Now, I’ve wanted to be a writer for a good long time, and I’ve had my successful essays, stories, and journal entries, but not a whole lot of progress to show for the last decade or so.  I guess one of the things I treasure most about these past years has been that I have invested my time in acquiring technical skill, I’ve received experiences and stories through trials and joys that are now a part of who I am and the story I have to tell, and I’ve been able to spend long hours immersing myself in good teaching and I've been “expanding the soul” by reading the more dignified writings of scholars and poets alongside the fantastical and childlike adventures of characters in all sorts of stories.

And yet – what a safe thing it is, to criticize, but never submit my own work for critique.  It is like reading of adventures without ever feeling that wild stirring of joy that moves us to become more bold, more crazy, more noble, and to leave our own homes to meet the unknown and have our own adventures.

I’ve spent so much time reading good books and essays, treasuring high ideals, and learning to recognize good writing when I see it, that now that I myself am trying to write, my work appears to me like a piddling, ostentatious, little scrawling thing, and I shy away from publishing each of my successive potential-blog-post-essays, thinking, “Oh, a little edit here, a little edit there, and maybe it will be good enough” – which of course turns into major edits, major additions, and major subtractions, until I realize I’m not even using the original idea at all anymore, and have pretty much started the whole process from scratch with a new idea.  Rinse and repeat.

I now have almost a dozen potential-blog-post-essays, each one a little better, a little longer, and no more finished than the last.  But today is September 6.  And today, on this day, I am typing this piece.  This is my first draft, and I declare here and now that I SHALL indeed post it today, without letting myself edit that date to September 8, 9, December 1, etc.

I have determined to lift my heart by remembering that every runner starts with a baby’s weak steps, and that every writer starts by actually writing, not just thinking of all the great ways to write.  But oh – how hard it is to begin!

I do not mean to say that learning and reading are not highly valuable.  They are!  But I think that maybe, by focusing on growing in truth, and reasoning out what makes life good and worthwhile, that I’ve missed out on the freedom of letting every season of life be grand and wonderful to my heart.  I’ve forgotten to rejoice in little triumphs because I think they are no good until I’ve reached the big triumphs.  Maybe I’ve even forgotten that trials and busy days are days to purposefully find His glory, instead of just waiting for the day to be done.  How humbling it is, to really look at myself and discover that I’ve been happy enough to dream big dreams, while continually postponing the effort it requires to attain those big dreams.

Even if I spend my time on this blog posting bullet lists and stilted prose, I’m going to hit “publish” anyway.

Because that is my dream.  And more than that, I’m beginning to realize more and more that writing is a significant part of who I am made to be – not because I think I’m about to write anything radically valuable, but because in my writing, I meet myself, and I meet my Creator, and I discover things to ponder and treasure, to surrender and to celebrate.  In writing, I find peace.  It is my quiet place.  It is the attainment of one of those BIG UNKNOWN SOMETHINGS that always feels like it is around the bend, if only I can get to it.  All this striving, and all along, it was right here.  I can hear Him saying, “Just surrender the work, Beloved, and write.  Leave it all to me.  Just enjoy this gift I have given to you, and I will meet you there.  I always do more than you ask or imagine.  Isn’t that what you want most, anyway?  That your writing be Mine?  Let go.”

So this is my resolution.  It is time to dream.  It is time to ponder.  But more than that, it is time to actually leave the safety of “home” and begin the adventure.  It is time to become.

So be it!  Amen!

 

"Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.” - Zachariah 4:10