A very merry unbirthday to me!

Happy Birthday, Let There Be Art!

Dear Hearts,

Two weeks ago, on October 11, 2024, I secretly celebrated the second birthday of my first published book, Let There Be Art.

I thought of taking my thoughts to socials, but instead opted to soak in the reality on my own, pondering and processing the last four years of living out the good and hard work of being an author.

Today, two weeks after the second birthday of my book, I want to—in a very merry unbirthday to me sort of sense—celebrate Let There Be Art in simplest fashion, with a giveaway and by sharing an excerpt from the chapter “Let There Be Fellowship,” which so deeply resonates, even after all this time.

Read along and marvel with me, yeah?

I sometimes wonder if God, looking deep into our hearts, sees a mosaic of messy pieces, our sharp shards and jagged edges all brilliantly placed together, piece by shattered piece. I wonder if it was always God’s plan to bring us all together, to make a melded masterpiece that tells the miraculous story of men and women coming to find that there’s more than just a glimpse of good in this world. That there is gold—that shimmering shade of refined, requited love.

We need community and, deeper still, we need creative community. We need to be reminded that our hearts, our art, all pine to point toward a greater purpose. We need to be reminded that we are welcome as we are, that we are welcome for all we are, all blood and bone and burdens and brokenness. We need to be reminded that we are wanted for who we are, not what we do or produce or can prove. . .

This book, this very spine in your hands, is the result of community. It is not the result of a solo act; it is the sum of the people and places I’ve come to know and love. This book is the result of the people and places that have poured into me, whether they realized it or not.

Every home I stepped foot into. Every hug that held my hurting hands. Every prayer circle welcoming me to pour out my heart. Every home-cooked meal. Every holiday spent with family. Every laugh shared with long-lost friends. Every small group leader who helped me learn about life—all the Kivians and Marias, all the Annies, Dawns, and Paulas. Every back and forth with Emma over email. Every card sent by Kaye.

It’s Joanne walking through the snowstorm to visit my delivery room. It’s Jess and I writing songs with our guitars.

These memories, these moments, these people, and these places have been burned into my being, singed into my soul.

And they have refined the impurities of my character, called me out to love and lead me into the light where I belong.

It is the most liberating, exhilarating thing to confess that something you forged and fashioned—something, like this book, that you gave birth to and breathed life into—came into being not because of you but because of all that is a part of you.

The line from a movie that inspired your poem. The song that moved you to dance inside your home. The written words of your friend and how they compelled you to write your own.

Like my friend Courtney Turner who, after reading a poem I posted on Instagram, responded by writing a poem of her own. Of the words I wrote about my health and hurting heart, she wrote:

Mercy met me where my anger swelled.
Grace covered me where my sadness dwells.
Jesus held me right where I fell.
My body fails, but He never will.

This is fellowship.

In the fight of life you find friends to walk beside you. To cheer you on and challenge you. To see you, know you, and need you too.

A very merry unbirthday to Let There Be Art!

And, in very merry unbirthday fashion, rather than receive gifts, I’d like to give gifts away — see below!

Tell me: What does art and creativity look like in your life right now? Are you creating words and poems, paintings and pictures? Are you creating a family? A business? Is creativity hidden in plain sight, tucked away in your thoughts and dreams? Is it out there and obvious, published on pages and platforms? Are you creating a new life for yourself after sickness and sorrow swept into your heart, your body? Is your creativity fallow, in silence and stillness? Do tell.

Share your heart in a comment for a chance to win one free audiobook version of Let There Be Art. I will select three winners at random. Gift can be gifted to a friend in your stead. Giveaway closes Monday, October 28, 2024 at 12PM ET.

May the odds be ever in your favor. And, if today is not your birthday, a very merry unbirthday to you, as well!