What would it be like if you were more dedicated to the success and growth of someone else, than of yourself?

Notes from pastor brian

Art is fearlessness or rather courage in the face of fear.
Artists have this in common with children- they learn to play in the face of fear.
To create is to be vulnerable.

There was a moment when we looked at someone's creation and said 'art is not my thing'-we felt inadequate.
Artists say no to that idea. They say no to the pressure. We were designed for risk.
God did not design us to be afraid. Sin and loss of innocence has brought in fear.
As soon as we lower risk in one area we heighten risk in another.(example- more people die walking within MARKED crosswalks then people walking within UNMARKED crosswalks)

why is it that when two wonderful forms of art come together it is better?
We may be able to go to the sculptor and thank him for his magnificent work...but who made the materials? Who gave him the ability?
To whom do I go when I watch a sunset? When I stand on the edge of the grand canyon?

Only God can create out of nothing. He also was the first to create out of His own creation. He planted the garden.

Artists remind u to play in the face of pain.

Two paths in life:

1. Walking the road of Pleasing God
=Effort and "Being all God wants me to be"

or

2.Walking the road of Trusting God
=Humility and "Living out of who God says I am"

-Truefaced

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost

"When we come to know Christ, He sows a new dream in our hearts."

Waking

you brought me here
whispered me away
in this quiet morning
placid.
i catch my breath in the newborn light
it grows and glows the trees
around me gold
i sit and wait in
delight
the rustle of waking moves me
Cascades soft.
those birds one or two
cry out
im a special piece in this elaborate puzzle.
detailed sketch
fearfully drawn.
you set me, this piece aside today
to take the jumbles of words
inside me
untangle and unbind them again.
And your Words this morning
float from
thin pages.
sharp like daggers
on breeze.
tucking
gently
into my chest.
Me the runner.
i won't run today.
the wake hum grows louder but i
am still.
in your light
I see light.


psalm 36

Father
I realize that
You know me
best.
and its okay
it is okay
to be unknown sometimes
to be misunderstood
or misinterpreted
because all of my performance
can be nothing to you
as applauds from others
drown the scene
you stand still for you know my heart
and you ask me to put down my work
and return
really return to you.

Jeremiah 2-4

thank you for not giving me what i want
from keeping me in this place
of hunger
so that i can see
my deep need for you
and that nothing will satisfy

thank you for showing me Jeremiah 2-4
and for reminding me of broken cisterns
the ones i made and run to in thirst
that have holes on the bottom.
how these years have been leaking
through idols
and how wen i was full
i was drinking from you
thank you that when i am lying in
hopelessness
your word gives me a dose of
strength to get up
to armor up
to believe
that your love is real
that this romance is real
and i am not alone.

i long for your freedom again
where did i go?
running from the promise land
did i down the milk and honey?
and run into other hands?
well its dark out here and quite cold
everyone thinks my jokes are old
im nothing new
they say
o well i think
another one another one
ive pushed away
i keep pushing them away
i keep pushing You away
i keep etching out a path bvig enough
for me to walk through to
run through im sweating hard my palms
ripe with blood
trying to get through a fortified road
built for leaving
for not coming home
my prize is somone
who knows me
but still wants to stay
i cant believe its true here
so yes i run away
but you told me i was it
you died and finished it
but i am a coward for sure
and seek other lovers
no my love is not pure.

where?
where?
did i
leave
my thoughts
who burnt up reason
and self control
i sit with a burning scroll
the paper crumbles
and i do
under your hand

i realize i write wen im emotional spent.. sad because i usually have happy things to say!

but tonight id just like to confess
so that i can breathe and heal a little
there are a couple things i hate
maybe just a small handul
one of them is
feeling like i am
too much.
or not enough
or not just right
or that i am an overdose
that my feelings are out of control
that i am out of control
and i think...maybe i am?
maybe i am too much or too little.
too messy to crazy
to obsessive or lazy
and maybe i know
and maybe it hurts
when i really know it.
like tonight.
when i just want to be adored
like this
like the overdose i am
the inadequacy i am.

tonight

misunderstood
drawing close
but all it does is repel
all i do is repel you


i keep jumping
bounds
and lines
i never saw them anyway
but you do and they do
the lines to keep me on this
side
to not be
too much

stay quiet girl
wait still girl
dont dont spam me
with yourself
with your feelings and likes
and laughs

your too much
stay behind the line
the wall
the fence
you cant come into
me.

i just wish
you'd understand
i apologize
but then again no

how can i be sorry
that i run and climb
to understand the otherside
to be in clear view of you
cant you see me now?
no.
even on the other side
all my details pulled out sharp
magnified in florescent
i am repulsive
and you turn off the light