Here’s a paradox: the story I tell in my book, A Gracious Heresy: the Queer Calling of an Unlikely Prophet, is an extension of the work of my life. Another way I bear witness. Another kind of prophetic ministry. Now hold that in one hand. In the other hold the idea that I am a creative person who dances with language and paints pictures with words.
1- Faithful to a call in which ego often gets shoved out of the way
2- writer as artist with ego to spare.
Interesting intersection. Actually, not a new one for me. I teeter on a balance beam between the two and list one way or the other depending on the time of day, my frame of mind, and how centered I am in Godde on any given moment.
I am not particularly good or saintly. If you read my story you will discover a gleefully imperfect woman. I do have a wicked little voice in one ear that berates me for not being perfect. But there is a stronger voice in my other ear that says, “do your best and let it go” and “you will never be without flaws but don’t be without integrity”.
I wish I could be as good to my writer self as I am to my human self. But maybe that’s the answer to my dilemma today: to know that my work is not perfect, but I have done it with integrity.
Wow. Thanks for listening to me untangle that internal knot. I invite you to do the same. Unravel the cords that bind you to the falsehood that you are not good enough because you are not ‘perfect’.