Fragrant Offerings

     I feel like I’ve talked about this before, and I hate defending myself because it only seems to make another level of despair come to be, and me, I wonder if I have to convince even myself. I also feel like a handful of artists stand at this, this “dichotomy”” we’ve conjured, or… is it a man-made line?
     The most prevalent manifestation of this line I face, for my personal life, is music. When I hear the words “the song doesn’t even say Jesus” or “they could be singing to anyone” those innocent words cut to my heart, directly to that place I lock away because I fear my thoughts there, and I want to trust God there, there more than anywhere else… “Is this song religious,” heh I dunno, am I religious, who am I, does it matter? I suppose it does, because just as we are images of our creator, my creations too, are images of who I am, who I love, who I aspire to become.  If they are, somewhat, Jesus’s grand babies, I kinda hope they look like Him even if they aren’t Jesus III.

     Do you hear me? Should I go back? How do we know we are our parents’ children, and that their parents are our grandparents? Isn’t there something more than a name running in the blood, the very DNA of each cell? Even if it is the sweetest name ever whispered (mostly because of whose name it was), does the name itself matter or the very meaning of the name, God with us? Maybe my creator isn’t your creator so that’s why you need it to be clear, then maybe that’s why I feel like nothing when you say those words.

     I don’t want to be a cry baby or victimize myself but every time I hear this argument over the arts it cuts at my soul, my faith, and my identity. Is it because I think these things I make are more than me, no. That story was sold to me but I couldn’t buy it. I love God, I want to love Him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength and these songs are not who I am, but that reflect my heart and if those of you, who know God, my brothers and sisters struggle to see our Father there, who am I? Nothing more than a heathen, a harlot, a false prophet who sells lies, and believes she knows God but clearly doesn’t. Do you see how much those words hurt?

     These are things that God put on my heart to draw, write, and sing. Maybe they’re ugly, distracting, stupid, confusing, imperfect, far from God and long reaching, completely broken and you hate them. You’re disgusted by them, and you can’t see God in them. I’m sorry. I expect God to be strongest in weak and foolish things, and I want to trust He has blessed these things, as awful as they may be… as awful and broken as I am.

     However, I can understand where the sentiment lies, because I have been there. I have sat by and listened to music, stood in a gallery gazing at a piece, watched a video or movie all the while wondering “Is this Christian?” or “Is this a Christian Artist?”  In the meantime God would whisper into my heart, “I made all things. Everything that is beautiful, praise worthy, noble, true, and just… these are part of who I am. These things that bring joy, peace, solace, hope life; they are expressions of my love.” I ask you do flowers have a cross on them? Do birds endlessly sing “Jesus?” Does the sunrise quote an (out of context) Bible verse? What warms your soul in unspeakable terms? What brings your mind to beauty and love and good? What about an attractive man or woman, if this is “distracting” is not your heart in the wrong place didn’t God mare that person beautiful? Shouldn’t we think of God’s work and creation when we see, hear, taste, feel things that are beautiful? He made them beautiful for nothing is good outside of Him; nothing that was ever made was made without Him.

     Now that doesn’t mean that there are things He made that we have destroyed, this brings out greed, gluttony, sexual lust to name a few, and I would say those are the things that we should be against, but not those who made them. They are like you and I, trapped in our hurts and mistakes. 

     I have judged, and judge harshly scrutinizing every last word of a book, or poem. I have questioned every part of a sculpture or image but who am I to decide what a perfect reflection of God is? I hardly know who He is. So I asked Him to reveal Himself in the things I love and the things I don’t love. To place great over this critical heart, mind, and soul, to know there is a part of Him in all that He made in Him image. My Dear Ones please don’t shut my words out of your heart or the art of others, unless they out right hurt you. I for one chase beauty to lay fragrant offerings at His feet, to nurse the wounded lambs who have wondered like I, and to love as best I can through these words and images, so as to love Him by trying to love everyone He has entrusted to be near me.