Last week I painted 4 paintings. Actually I painted them all in under an hour, which is pretty efficient, even for me. Sometimes the creative inspiration hits, and you just have to go with it. As any frequent writer or artist knows, sometimes the magic is there, and sometimes it’s just…not. I’ve learned to listen to my creative child when it’s yelling to come out. If I don’t, or if I push it off until later, sometimes it never comes back or at least doesn’t have the same brilliance it once did.
In my previous post, I wrote a little about the African Adventure I had smack-dab in the middle of the Ebola outbreak.
It’s hard to even scratch the surface of the trip’s impact, and on the plane ride home I remember thinking I’d learned a lot, but was grateful the learning was winding down now, allowing me much-needed process time.
Several months ago, in the height of the Ebola outbreak, I was scheduled to go to Africa to help women and children in need. Many people in my life, including family and doctors, strongly urged me not to go. They said it was not safe and that I could go a different time. They said it wasn’t worth the risk.
I disagreed. Because Africans need to know that their country is more than a medical label or deadly virus. That they are valuable and deserve care, regardless of danger. That they are worth the risk.
I read a piece of scripture in my devotion time recently on a cold, winter morning. Steaming hot chai, and these words from John 15: 1-8, brought much-needed warmth to my heart:
Grief can strike you in unexpected ways and in unexpected places, can’t it? One moment you’re buzzin along with your day, and the next you’re crying because they don’t have the sandwich you want at Panera. But it’s not about the sandwich.
I lost a friend last year. A close friend. It was a hit and run car accident, which I still can’t believe happened to someone I actually know. Knew.
A couple of years ago I went to India, and although the purpose of my trip was mainly to capture stories and photos from a nonprofit located there, those weren’t the most valuable things I came home with.
After countless cups of chai tea, trips in autorickshaws I thought may end my life, and spicy meals with genuine people, here are a few lessons learned in India I’d like to share with you:
For someone who communicates for a living, you’d think I would have considered blogging before. Especially since, fun fact: I have been journaling almost every day of my life since I was 8 years old. That’s a lot of journals. And quite frankly, it’s becoming a logistical issue in my apartment.
Hence, a blog. Besides, I love the idea of blogging just like I journal: unfiltered and unedited. What a healthy, creative outlet this could be! Is it a little weird that any human on the planet can read my thoughts? Sure. But it would be worth it if even one person felt inspired by my honest posts, or encouraged by my failures or lessons learned.