Three weeks. It’s been three weeks since I’ve posted a new blog. I was going to say that it was because I kept drawing blanks when I would ask myself what I wanted to write about, but there have been too many times I’ve sat down to write, with no clue what to say, and things just came up from my heart and jumped onto the screen. So I think it has more to do with that struggle bus I talked about last time. It must have taken the “scenic route” and kept me on it longer than I intended.

However, one thing I’ve noticed in these three weeks is that the longer I go without doing something I like doing, the easier it is to make excuses not to do it. I love to journal, I love to write, I love to paint and craft, I love to bake cookies. And all too often I forget how much I love to do those things because I let too much time pass without doing them.

One thing I don’t know is the why. Why do I not make time for the things I love to do? Is it laziness? Is it procrastination? Is it fear? Is it lack of energy? Is it lack of time? Maybe it’s a combination of all of those things. Like I said, I don’t know.

Well, for some reason, this past Sunday I left my house with a strong urge to get back home and do some painting and crafting. I also wanted to bake some cookies. So, after work and lunch, I came home and decided to take a nap first because, well, Sunday naps are anointed. Now, usually after a nap, the tv is on and that’s it. I lay there and chill all day, thinking about all of the things I could and should be doing. But this time, I decided I was going to get my paint supplies out and just see what happens.

Several hours later, I realized that 10pm was too late to start baking cookies. I was bummed, but too relaxed to care. I had forgotten how therapeutic it can be to paint.

Now, look, I’m no artist. I approach painting the same way I do journaling. There’s not just one way to do it. When I journal, I sit down with my coffee, a pen, and whichever journal I’m currently writing in and just start talking to Jesus. Whatever is on my mind, I write. I don’t worry about what it would sound like if someone else read it, I just write. I used to worry about that, but I found that it wasn’t as helpful to journal when I considered an audience. It also wasn’t real. I know one day, someone will be reading those journals and they will likely think I needed to be in a mental hospital, but I’ll be with Jesus by then so it won’t matter. For now, though, it’s just me and Jesus. It’s the same when I paint. I don’t think about how other people will see it or if they’d like it. I do it for me and Jesus. Sometimes I see something in my mind that I want to try to portray, and other times I just put paint on my brush and slap it on the canvas. It doesn’t always make sense, but I don’t need it to either.

You know what happened Monday morning?

I woke up not wanting to go to work. I know that sounds normal for anyone, especially for a Monday, but that’s not normal for me. Yes, I have some days that I don’t feel like going to work because I’m tired or something. But this was different. I didn’t want to go to work, because I wanted to stay home and paint all day long. That’s seriously all I wanted to do.

Then last night, I finished the painting I started. It might not be exactly what I saw in my mind, but it says what I wanted it to say. To me, anyway.

So, I sent my friend a picture of it before I went to hang out with her. She said she liked it of course because she’s the friend that supports and encourages me through everything. I also ended up talking to her about how much I struggled to say out loud to people what I wanted to do on Sunday.

For some reason, I felt guilty to turn down spending time with people I love and care about so that I could go home and paint or write. But I know I shouldn’t feel guilty about that. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty about how I want to spend any of my time because it’s my time and my life. But I did.

Why?

I think I was feeling selfish for wanting to be at home alone to paint because my schedule doesn’t always have a lot of open time. Then when it does, my wallet doesn’t always have the funds. So when I have the time and the money to do things but all I really want to do is go home and be alone to paint or write, I feel like I’m choosing myself over people I love. And that makes me feel selfish.

But here’s what I’m learning: The reason I like being home alone to paint or craft or write so much is that it’s like I said, I’m spending that time with Jesus. In those moments that I spend doing those things with Jesus, I am allowing my creative side to express itself. I am allowing the part of me that God created for a purpose to be alive. It’s a part of me that was asleep for so long that I didn’t even know it existed until it was slowly and gradually awakened over the past several years. At first, I didn’t know what is was or what to do with it, but the more time I spend with that part of me, the more I like it and the more I want to use it.

And the truth is… there’s nothing wrong with that.