Middle Missive {...a "missive" is just a letter, and in this case a love letter...}
Two years ago tonight, as a woman in my 50’s, God placed Milan and Bellagio, Italy under my feet:
I had never picked up a paintbrush until I was well past 45 - closer to 50. Yet there I was, in Italy, to minister to women through teaching art.
It all began with faithfully chasing creative inspiration - not someone else and her ideas, not an MLM company (they’re fine - calm down), not diving deep into all my trauma, symptoms and pain, both physical and emotional.
I waited for my Kindler, and He showed up. He always does. And when He does, He comes bearing gifts.
““When he ascended on high, he took many captives and gave gifts to his people.” ”
Dear Middle-Artist,
All art is heaven’s way of staging a gentle invasion. Be alert to song. Be alert to poetry. Be alert to color. Be alert to texture and form and sculpture and a word fitly spoken. Know this: what moves you, and the way it moves you will always (always!) be right on time. Investigate further.
(And oh, I just dropped such wisdom on you! I just handed you flint and steel, my friend. Now go kindle something beautiful!)
Middle Missives
Dear Middle-Friends,
This sculpture is me.
And that’s a metaphor. I’m not really under that canvas.
This sculpture might be you also. Hang in there with me, and I will explain.
I’m 53, and still “in the middle”. I might be more “in the middle” than any 35-to-40-year-old could ever be. Without going into all the ways I find myself betwixt and between, let me stop right there to acknowledge that you’re probably in the middle, too.
You’re there, too. You’re in the middle. I know. I know. Sit down, and let me get you a cup of hot tea or some coffee.
The Lord of all creation is the sculptor, I am the clay. In this season, I have a sense that He is up to something bigger (and far more beautiful) than I know. One characteristic of “the middle”, is that what is becoming is not yet finished, but it is suddenly taking on real form. The beauty of what will be the finished piece is taking on a look that is more and more distinct. In fact, it is becoming so distinct, the artist starts covering up the work when she or he finishes for the day, or even just breaks for lunch (as this artist in Bellagio, Italy had done).
The cover-up isn’t because what is being made is unsavory or unimportant. Just the opposite. The more significant a particular piece is felt to be, the more careful the artist is to shield both it, and the process of forming it, from prying eyes. You won’t find this process in a “how to” video on any platform, anywhere.
Fact: the canvas covers this work because what has been the middle is looking more and more like the finish. The artist does not want to give away trade secrets, nor does she want the loveliness of what she is making to be seen before she’s ready to reveal.
Fact: the outside world can forget about getting a glimpse of this. There will be not one single aspect of its process, contours, concept, or outcome copied before the unveiling, thankyouverymuch. (Then, let the spinoffs begin, but that is another metaphor.)
Fact: the beautiful woman under this canvas is covered up, even to herself.
“Beloved,
now we are the (daughters) of God, and it does not yet appear what we shall be…”
1 John 3:2
If your life seems indistinct, especially after a season of feeling quite defined, you might be “in process”. If your outcome seems heavily veiled even to you, yet you are feeling “worked over”, and have been working very hard as well - you, dear one, might be closer to being revealed than ever before. And maybe you are becoming something bigger and more beautiful than what you have seen others talking about, blogging about, launching, ‘gramming, YouTube’ing, Facebooking, TikTok’ing, or newslettering in the same space, lane, or network, all around you. If you don’t find the equivalent of yourself on Kajabi or YouTube, rejoice! It could be that your finished form is known to your Maker as being for something different and special.
Just you wait and see.
Love,
Sheila
PS. A “missive” means a letter. It’s just a letter from me to you.