I love the Kintsugi analogy. It fit beautifully with your own artwork and the idea of making something more lovely out of something broken. It's encouraging to me as I struggle with self-confidence in my writing. Every. Single. Day.
We just have to trust that Jesus can make something beautiful out of our brokenness. And it always surprises me when he does!
Isn't the Kintsugi idea just so lovely and redeeming. I love that the artist is not trying to hide the cracks.
I completely resonate with your struggle with self-confidence about writing. And yet, from what I have read of your writing, it seems like you, too, feel compelled to follow the unique shape of your heart. And part of that shape calls you to write! So we do it anyway, because we each have our own stories that only we can tell. Even if there are cracks in the telling!
“This week I’ve also stumbled across old parts of myself, the parts that I keep trying to leave in a reject pile but seem to stubbornly stick around.” Beautiful, Aimee.
Thanks, Sarah. It is not always easy to talk about the parts we'd prefer to leave in the discard pile. May we both find the way forward in our writing with courage.
Thinking of your post today and how I ask the question every week "how much is the right amount of honesty?" when it comes to this writing space. Usually when I feel I've overshared, I hear from someone the next day who appreciated the level of honesty. But there is always more behind the curtain!
I love the Kintsugi analogy. It fit beautifully with your own artwork and the idea of making something more lovely out of something broken. It's encouraging to me as I struggle with self-confidence in my writing. Every. Single. Day.
We just have to trust that Jesus can make something beautiful out of our brokenness. And it always surprises me when he does!
Isn't the Kintsugi idea just so lovely and redeeming. I love that the artist is not trying to hide the cracks.
I completely resonate with your struggle with self-confidence about writing. And yet, from what I have read of your writing, it seems like you, too, feel compelled to follow the unique shape of your heart. And part of that shape calls you to write! So we do it anyway, because we each have our own stories that only we can tell. Even if there are cracks in the telling!
So true, Aimee. Keep telling your story, and I'll keep telling mine!
“This week I’ve also stumbled across old parts of myself, the parts that I keep trying to leave in a reject pile but seem to stubbornly stick around.” Beautiful, Aimee.
Thanks, Sarah. It is not always easy to talk about the parts we'd prefer to leave in the discard pile. May we both find the way forward in our writing with courage.
Thinking of your post today and how I ask the question every week "how much is the right amount of honesty?" when it comes to this writing space. Usually when I feel I've overshared, I hear from someone the next day who appreciated the level of honesty. But there is always more behind the curtain!
This writing thing often feels like standing shirtless in WalMart. All my stretch marks on display.