The Voice

I should be working today.

My desk is a mess. It's so bad that I am not even sitting there as I write this. I've moved into the other room. The problem is that I've been working in this room for a few days now, and I've pretty much destroyed this place too.

It tells me something about the state of my soul, when I allow my environment to disintegrate like this. But it doesn't feel bad. It feels like something is brewing, percolating, poking me.

But what? What is it?

I feel creativity rising up in me. I have felt it for weeks, although I haven't named it until this moment.
I now realize that I have been running from it.

But Why?

Because creativity is scary...at least to me. I feel this urge to create, but then I find myself struggling with my voices. The voices of my past, of my experiences, the voices in my head that come against creating. I recently marveled as I read Josh Irby describe these voices. I thought, "How does he know what happens when I try to create?"

It's not that I've been unhappy, or unhealthy. Aside from staying up a little too late and not getting as much sleep as I should, I've been fine. I've been experiencing God, loving my family, and doing my job. But I have also been trying to ignore The Voice.

There are times when The Voice is telling me to do something I don't want to do. I don't want to speak or to write. I don't want to risk. The voices tell me it is all for the best. I should just keep my head down, not aim too high, not venture too far. They are familiar, they comfort and cajole, they are part of me. When this wears thin, they do their best to intimidate and distract, but ultimately The Voice will be heard. The Voice is relentless.

The Voice invites me to be who He made me to be. The Voice invites me to create, and forces my creativity to the surface, the creative expressive part of me that He is redeeming, the best parts of me, the parts of me that are my own true voice. The Voice pushes and prods, making a way for me to approach the Throne of Grace and to take what I find there and to speak it, sing it, dance it, write it, to communicate it to the world.

Today, The Voice used a video by Dave Grohl (a video not for the faint of heart, but perfect for this old punk rocker) to remind me that my voice matters. To remind me that in choosing to create and express my voice there is freedom and power. The video itself felt like a distraction. But I was drawn to it, and couldn't stay away. In hindsight, I see that He was leading me to a voice that I would resonate with. Profane, but honest and insightful, He used Dave's voice to call forth my own.

So today I choose again to create and write, no matter what the critics think or the market will buy. The joy is in the journey not the response of the spectators. The victory is in the creating. But the greater victory is in harkening again to The Voice and enjoying the fellowship of the Spirit in this previously walled off area of my heart.

When?

The urge to create
The desire to imagine
The holy abandon
The joyful passion

When did I learn
Horses aren't green
Skies always blue
Reactions can be mean

When did I learn
My dancing isn't graceful
My words are unwelcome
Responses can be painful

When did I learn
To hide myself away
To learn to pretend
To don a mask each day

To protect my soul and my creations
To dodge the scorn I stop creating
To miss the mockery, shield flesh from thorn
I escape, procrastinate, and mourn

Alone in a Crowd

As I write this, I am on a crowded train. People all around me studiously avoid eye contact with those not in their travel group.

We are all together, but not really. We are together, but not present.

Some read their papers. Some play with their phones. Others read books. I type on my computer.

The lady behind me is having a very personal conversation on her mobile phone. Her volume and cockney accent caught my attention at first, but when I realized the nature of her conversation, I put in my headphones and cranked up some Beethoven so as to not be privy to the information she shares with all of us, as well as the person on the other end of the phone.

It is as if the rest of us simply do not exist.

It reminds me of a Brian Regan comedy routine where he lampoons people he has observed for living in "You world" rather than the world the rest of us share.

I suppose that is the definition of inconsiderate. It is literally not considering, not thinking about, another. I don't believe it is done out of malice.

I guess this all strikes me particularly today because I am returning from a trip where much of my ministry flowed from the ministry of presence. My work began with being fully present in the moment, to God, to myself, and to others. From that place of presence, I was able to listen and care for people who needed it.

After several days of presence, the opposite is startlingly clear, almost shocking. And yet, God is present even here, while I am alone, with Him, in a crowd. So, I lean back in my seat, enjoying Beethoven's music and the presence of God.