Chapter 4 – Forgiving – Part 3

Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
Colossians 3:13

Exercise 3: My Heroes

Make a list of all the people who have in any way inspired or encouraged you to believe in yourself as an artist. Include other artists whom you admire or whose work encourages you.

There’s a lovely librarian who I wouldn’t have been able to describe until this moment. Now I have the word. She is a nurturer. I don’t think I was ever able to understand that word until right now. The dictionary that is my mind finally put the two together. She nurtures me. We don’t know one another well, but she has cataloged my abilities – she’s a librarian too, remember? – and she knows what I have done in the past and knows how I could be used in the future. And she asks. She is assertive. Another word that I’m finally starting to wrap my understanding around. She will ask, and you simply cannot say no. You might grumble about it, but in the end, you want to do your best for her. You certainly don’t want to disappoint her. And when your task is complete, there is praise. Sincere praise. Believable praise. And you know when she comes around again … you’ll want to hide, but it is better all around if you just say yes!

There are times when I end up doing something that feels both ridiculous and right at the same time. It’s okay when you work with kids. They get it. Kind of an uncensored joy and wild abandon when the grownup rules are lifted. Times when you just want to force the adults and spoil sports out of the room so you can be free. And there is a sweet and kind and encouraging woman, who loves it when I do it. She’s not embarrassed by it. She’d love to join in. And she always makes me feel guilt free afterwards, while the other adults are grumbling and talking, she’s right there with me – getting it. Without her encouragement, I probably would have stopped. The naysayers are quite vocal.

There are several people who claim to enjoy what I write and what I say. They say I have the gift of language. Perhaps that is the hardest praise for me to hear. I have the hardest time getting my thoughts and ideas across. I stumble and have to repeat myself often. Sometimes I’m still not understood. And for the most part, I get the feeling that people would like to hear less of me. Probably see less of me too. But occasionally, I’ll be pushed to get it out of my system and I’m rewarded with acceptance. My favorite is, “preach it, girl.”

I could go on and on with my list of encouragers. I find there are many. I wrote a series of essays to build myself up once upon a time. I need to find them and read them again. For some reason, I feel that I’m not liked. In reality, I am. I had a devotion this morning that said, “When you feel Satan’s arrows of accusation, you are probably on the right track.” I’ve been giving in to the guilt. Where are my shield and my sword?

I find it interesting that when I sit to ponder which artists inspire me, they are always authors. Tolkien, Lewis, L’Engle, Lowry, Hale, Oppel, Westerfeld, Herbert, Jordan, Auel, Miller … I could go on and on and on and on. That’s who I want to be like. Close seconds are the musicians. The people who put the words to the music … I think I need to go back to my Narnia.

Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.
Luke 6:37

Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates with all choicest fruits, henna with nard…

Song of Solomon 4:13 (ESV)