Dear Reader,
My
plans for the night was not to write to you. In fact, I had the idea of working
on a novel, but my mind has other plots for me to deal out. I felt a letter
burning in me, whatever that means … But never-the-less, here we are, you are
reading my words, and me, trying to put them on
a page in the hopes they reach you. The problem is there is so much growing and
dying in my mind I can’t seem to grab on to one single idea to tell you. I’m all
over the place, beside myself with a burning need to create something. So, I
have no idea what is going to come of this letter. Maybe, we can start with the
question that has been circling my thoughts like a hungry wolf.
I
wonder where this love for creating comes from in me; was it given birth when I
found myself inadequate to express my deeper thoughts? Was this love given life
when the school I went to told me I would be nothing? I was too stupid to make
it in this life outside of being nothing but a garbage truck driver, is that
where it came from? Did my heart fight
back the night of the fire, telling Death, I would live and create? Or did all
these things water the seed already planted in me by God?
I can’t
tell you the answer. I’m not sure I want to know, but it is something nice to think about for a while. It keeps my
mind from going mad at the dull job I have now. It keeps me from feeling that I
ended up just like my school told me I would, a nothing.
And
then my thoughts jump a few stones over to ask, how does imagination play in God’s plan? God is the creator of all
so does that mean giving us imagination is a key to how He works? After all,
He did create us in His image. Is being a man and an artist the closest I can
get to God? Does being able to create pull
me closer to Him? If this is the case, then women must be extremely close to God. They
create like no other can in this world.
Is imagination how we talk to God?
I like to think is it, and it also allows Him to talk to us.
Jesus
Christ, the Lord, my Lord, my Savior, and all the other titles given to Him has
been marching slowly into my life as of late. I have been opening the door to
Him, not sure what I would find, not sure what would happen. I’m starting to
see Him everywhere. I’m starting to feel Him with me like a shadow, like a
friend, a Father.
I have
always been a man of Faith, but to what degree that Faith laid I was never
sure.
As I
write this all I can think about is what Mercedes said to Edmond. “He (God) is
in everything. Even in a kiss.”
Maybe,
we can say my Faith is being renewed. A
welcome change of pace if I must say so. I needed something holy in my life.
This year, which is coming to an end, has been long and hard for me. I have
lost friends, their portraits now hanging on the halls in Hades house, and my
thoughts had turned against me. They
fight with my heart while my plans for
the future come crashing down. I have watched
all I have hoped for shatter against the floor like a glass heart. I have and
still do question every move I make for tomorrow or the day after. I am at a
lost with what to do with myself when the sun rises, and it has almost broken
me.
There
are many things I could do now. I could pick the pieces up, put what I can back
together and move on. I could crawl into my bed for a while and give up until I
couldn’t take giving up any more. I could
and almost did, all the things I have done
before in my life with no new outcome. Instead, I did something different.
I stared into the darkness of my room one-night, watching
it breathe into the corners wishing my bed wasn’t so empty. And then, my
mind stopped wondering and sat down. It sat down beside a tree at Airy Knoll,
the haven I go to in my thoughts, and found God beside me. He was reading a
book, wearing a yellow hat, and smoking a pipe. A young man He was with a great
big smile and all He did was a nod to me, and
He went back to reading His book.
We sat
there for hours, and I felt at peace. My
mind stopped running over every line of problems I told myself I had. My heart
stopped begging for some woman to love me and the loneliness ached never to
leave this spot in my head, it felt fulfilled. All I wanted to do was stay
there.
He
stood after a while letting me know it was time to go back to my world. A place
I didn’t want to go but what choice did I have? I can’t stay locked in this
room forever. He started back down the hill, I ran after Him, and He stopped to wait for me. When I got to Him, I give Him the heavy pack on my back. I
told Him, “I can’t do anymore. I can’t handle it. I can’t understand it. I
can’t carry it.”
He
smiled and took it.
Right
then and there in the dark of my room lost in my imagination of a sunny day at
Airy Knoll I told God, “I will trust You with everything.”
It hasn’t changed the circumstance of my life. I still work a job I hate. I
still have no idea how to publish a book or what to do with tomorrow. None of
that has changed for me yet, but it has changed me. I feel at peace right now.
I know, I can trust the Lord with all of this and more. He saved me from the
fire for a reason. A plan was hatched the
moment God said to His angel I am not ready for him to leave this world and now,
all I can do is trust is that plan. It is not an easy trust, but it is a loving
trust. I do not trust well and yet, I’m learning.
We are coming to the end of my
letter. I do not like to write more than a thousand words to do you at the time, but I must state something now which may
go over my word count. I hope you can bear to read a little longer. The
question or should I say the wolf was not what I wrote the beginning of the
letter but was this; “Have I made my art into an idol? Do I worship my art more than I worship God? Is this why He
has not blessed me in art?”
I skip the question before because
I was afraid of what might come from asking it. I didn’t know where my pen
would take me in this letter, so I dare not to write it. How funny I still
found the answer I was looking for in this writing. My art is not an idol but is a way for me to feel Him, to talk
to Him, and become closer to Him. My art is where He saves me daily, and I can sit beside Him against a tree …
With a Handshake,
Chase
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