Telling the stories

I made a craft. I should pinterest the ))(*&(*&# out of it, except I got the idea from pinterest. It was nearly a pinstrosity, but I was able to pull it back from the brink...rip some paper off, restain, repaint...I did it over a year ago. 'Cause for the love of Pete, I NEED a creative outlet!!! It's nothing to write home about, but I do love the meaning.

"This is my Song" start

One canvas says "This is my story." The other says "This is my song." From the old hymn Blessed Assurance. On the story canvas, I chose words and passages I find meaningful; and on the song canvas, I pulled from an old hymnal.

Adding some paint

These are the two things we carry in life. Our stories and our songs. Our tales of setback and overcoming, our funniest moments, our memories, our soaring ballads and minor-keyed heartaches. I have felt compelled of late to tell my stories. However uninteresting or uneventful. I need to make markers and altars in my own life. What I don't have are the dramatic or shocking testimonies.

All painted and waiting for letters

There is nothing wrong with those. But those are not my story. What I do have is a faithful God in both little and small ways over the course of many days and nights.











These sit atop my piano, which is not often played. There's a book of hymns that was my grandmother's, published in 1913. She played piano and sang for her church for many years.

I had a heck of a time figuring out how to get the lettering on. I didn't want it to be handwriting. I wanted large statement letters. Somehow, in a fit of frustration at Hobby Lobby, I came home with smallish Scrabble-looking letters. I was underwhelmed with the result.

But then, as any good English major does, I found it fraught with MEANING. You have to get close to these guys to read them. To see this is my story and this is my song. Our stories and songs don't yell. They're the intimate parts of us, aren't they?

It's a little messy, somewhat thought out, and artsy but not art. A lot like me.