At this early point in my solitary journey, I work with my hands so my thoughts will be established. Proverbs 16:3. The garden, the paintbrush and the pen were the objects that enabled me to start healing through creating.

 

I’m amazed at the value of these tools to bring me the peace, comfort, and sense of empowerment that carries me through the toughest times in my life.

 

The Garden, at a glance looks just like dirt, but when you touch it, there is magic. From this dirt we receive beauty. From this dirt we receive nourishment. From this dirt, God created Adam. Playing in the dirt is like co-creating with God. My garden is such a healing place. A few shrubs, a couple of flats of flowers and a little re-design and I’m there!

 

The Paintbrush, a simple beautiful tool, through which can flow a rainbow of emotions. A tool like no other, gives itself to whatever you could imagine, then yeilds itself to complete flexibility to be used for sheer visual pleasure. To saturate myself in the colors of God, and glide through life over the dark and hollow surfaces, allowing Him, co-operating with Him to create masterpieces in everyone my life touches. My paintbrush restores more than the sad and unlovely places in my house. It gives me freedom and choices. Adding joy where there was sorrow. Shedding light on dark places, shading drama in the bland.

 

The Pen, a most valued friend. Out of which flows my life in Words. A vessel through which can pour the abundance that’s been poured in me. The Pen, mightier than the sword, she dances across the page to divide and conquer the best from the better. I feel her thunder when my frail fingers wrap around her. You go girl!

My Pen is thundering in my hand. I feel a surge of literary energy welling up in me.