Alohamaimeheke'oe

A Meditation on Grace

In my heart there is a room that stores my inadmissibles. 

Those bills. That debt. Her disappointment. The pressure in my throat and stomach as I push an unwelcome truth into my neck and shoulders. 

Malignant. Entwined. Snaking past my subconscious and invading each system that seeks the intimacy of vulnerability. I shut myself down one reservation at a time - resolutely weaving isolation into a narrative I can endure.

In my net there is a tear that holds redemption in its weakness. I gaze through the hole and wonder at its openness. Fragility echoes through the negative space. 

In my room there is a floor. Walls. Seams. Light sources and beams. My hands worship each crease and texture, marveling at the concepts I have arranged into such finite boundaries.

When heat is applied to matter, the molecules vibrate faster, and space between each atom increases. Mass remains the same, but the essential structure shifts in response to an external influence. 

In my heart there is a room that trembles and quakes in awareness of its own existence. Nature’s lines are wholly organic, and linear insistences crumble into potential as an avalanche of forgiveness moves mountains. 

In my awareness, there is acceptance. Integration. Wholeness and healing.

When Pam Chun approached me about prophetic art for the HIM 2016 conference, just after HIM15, I was surprised because I am not 1) an artist, nor 2) a prophet. What I am is a creative worship director of a small emergent faith community in Austin, TX that has been a beacon of healing for myself and many other recovering perfectionists. We are pastors and professors and prostitutes. Writers and workmen and widows. TED talkers and talented musicians who stop in when they’re off tour to lead worship, and homeless people who head in to pray and eat and refresh themselves on Sunday mornings. We are broken and battered and deeply, passionately, insanely loved by the Lord. We are not the prophetic type.

But it’s Pam, so of course I said yes.

I think of my art in the same way I think about my music: it’s something I know how to do and have always enjoyed, but it’s just not my field. Give me a blank word doc and I’ll paint you a picture with words that will surpass any oration I could possibly perform; give me a blank page and I’ll stare and struggle and obsess over every detail before finally giving up and locking it away in my portfolio, away from prying eyes. My writing is Isaiah’s lips, rich in oration and scope; my art is Adam and Eve’s nakedness, hidden under fig leaves in shame. But it wasn’t always that way.

A decade or so ago, a small emergent faith community in Lake Buena Vista, FL hired me as their resident artist, and for years my work adorned the sanctuary week after week. The vulnerability factor was still there, but it was a safe place for me to explore and learn and lead – and I determined that if I could offer my art to the Lord ten years ago, I could find something to give at HIM this year. But what I didn’t anticipate is what God wanted to give me.

I saw – and created – works of art this weekend that I cannot rationalize into normality. My feet led me without my direction; my eyes were drawn to areas that held immediate answers to prayer. I heard God’s voice in a way that is not metaphorical, and it literally brought me to my knees.

There may not be enough moments in a lifetime to unpack what I experienced this weekend, but here is what I know: God is real. God has spoken. God is sovereign. Prophecy – the knowledge and sharing of God’s truth – is a scary word. But it is real.

Don’t get me wrong – it’s also scary. But more terrifying than the word is the immediate presence of God in the midst of it.

I never really resonated with the “fear of God” aspect of faith. I know it’s an important facet for some, but my God is kind and comforting and lifts fears gingerly from broken, bloody hands. My God is grace-filled and love-driven and, above all, a healer.

Have you ever had a broken bone that healed incorrectly and had to be reset? An infected wound that had to be re-opened and cleaned out before a new Band-Aid went on? An antibiotic that made you feel so much worse for a day or two while your body figured out what to do with the new element?

The last time my daughter skinned her knees, it took an hour to get her cleaned up. Each step was so hard, as we rinsed first with water to get a sense of the wounds, then hydrogen peroxide to bubble out the sediment lodged in her legs, then rubbing alcohol to sterilize any lingering germs or bacteria. She was absolutely inconsolable in anticipation of the pain that was to come with every step – but the worst had already happened when she fell. Every subsequent step was just one step closer to healing.

Hearing God speak was like having every emotional wound in me re-opened and cleaned out all at once. Each broken bone reset. An antibiotic unleashing its wrath on the infection that would consume me were it not for the life-saving drugs coursing through my system. And I fell to my knees in fear. And unworthiness. And gratefulness. And love. Overwhelmed by the presence of a healer who could speak such great things into being – and the knowledge that this Healer is not only accessible, but constantly with me.

Fifty Shades of Abuse

Purple ribbon: domestic violence awareness 

Nicely Said: Writing for the Web with Style and Purpose

Sometimes I blurb a book…

Writing is a skill that will hugely benefit anyone’s career, and luckily, it’s a skill that anyone can learn. Nicely Said is a wonderful guide to writing clearly and concisely for the audience you’re trying to reach. Whether you’re a professional or just getting started, you’ll find a ton to steal from here.

…but I forget to blog about it! Some of my favorite parts, below.

“Everything you publish should serve a purpose.”

Consider how different this is than writing fiction:

As you work on a piece ask yourself: How does it support your goals? How does it align with your mission? Does it teach people something new?

When researching, get people to tell you their stories.

To get better answers, ask better questions:

Don’t ask “Would you search for ‘meaningful gift’ on Google?” Make it more neutral, like: “How would you define a keepsake?” or “When was the last time you gave someone a meaningful gift?”

Use Mad Libs.

Fenton and Lee suggest Mad Libs for writing a mission statement:

We make (plural noun) for (audience noun). We help (audience noun) (verb) (adverb). We want to (verb) (noun) to (verb) so they can (verb) (adverb).

And a bio:

I’m a [ ]. We’re a [ ] company. That means we [ ]. We help people [ ]. My day-to-day looks like [ ].

“Don’t get to the point; start with it.”

Enough said.

Edit writing live in your internet browser.

This is a trick I used a million times as an interactive copywriter:

Open the page in your browser. Right-click the text you want o edit. Choose Inspect Element in the pop-up menu. The text should be highlighted in the source code. Replace it with something new. Press the Return key to see what the page would look like with the new text. If you want to show a few variations before making the changes, take a screenshot of each one.

Learn the difference between voice and tone.

Your voice is your company’s public personality. It doesn’t change much from day to day. Like you own individual personality, it comes through in all of your content and influences how people perceive you. On the other hand, your tone changes to fit the situation. While your voice if more about you, your tone is about your readers and how they feel. Together, your voice and tone make up your writing style.

“Read your work aloud.”

Learn to love talking to yourself, because reading your work out loud will transform your writing. When you’re not sure if you’re striking the right tone, read your content aloud to see how it sounds. Peter Elbow, professor emeritus of English at the University of Massachussetts at Amherst, calls this “speaking onto the page.”

I also recommend reading aloud through a good microphone and a set of headphones — I find hearing my voice amplified estranges things and helps me hear the words.

Be a good date.

That’s how Vonnegut put it. Here’s how Lee and Fenton put it:

Put yourself in the reader’s shoes. When you sit down to write, think about the people on the other side of the screen. Who are they? What do they need to hear from you? Before you publish anything, [ask these questions]: Is it useful? Is it true?

Nicely Said is $5 off today at Amazon! Just clip the coupon before you check out.

BTW, do follow Kate and Nicole. They’re smart ladies.