You know how some people take their life experiences and turn them in to self-help sort of non-fiction books? Inspiring stories of the way they triumphed over adversity or the way they turned lemons into lemonade or something of the sort…
Those stories are often inspiring to read. They make us want to get up and do something.
But then you’ve got people like me who take a little longer to process things. Because of that, I’m not so much up for chronicling my “triumphs” because I’m still hanging out there, somewhere over my own body trying to figure out if I’m going to triumph at all. And if I am…what’s that going to look like?
Sometimes there are days when I still feel like a fourteen-year-old girl, trying to figure out what God was thinking when he made me in the first place. It’s somewhat universal, I think. Most of us don’t get out of bed thinking “Gosh, I’m awesome. God was smart to create me.”
At least I don’t think we do.
In many ways, writing has become a place to process the questions I’m asking on a daily basis. Questions that don’t seem to go away no matter how many birthdays I have.
I decided to make Evelyn an artist, and when I did, I knew she would look at the world a little differently than your average person. She doesn’t seem things in details and numbers. She seems them in broad strokes and sweeping color. She, like so many of us, is going through something difficult–something hard to process that leaves a lot of questions behind. Because of her circumstances, she feels unlovable, anxious and maybe a little bit like there’s no chance she’s going to recover.
I’ve been there. I imagine you have too.
We often turn to self-help books for that inspiration, that help we’re seeking, but sometimes reading (or in my case, writing) about a character’s journey can open you up to all kinds of truths and possibilities. And sometimes, God uses my own characters to breathe these truths deep in to my heart…like when Gigi tells Evelyn “A Creator had to be quite pleased with his creation to call it a masterpiece…”
She knew Evelyn would understand it when she put it that way because she was an artist. But you don’t have to be an artist to latch on to the truth that God considers you a masterpiece. A masterpiece. How many artists do you know who can say that about something they’ve created? And how hard is it for you to believe it about yourself?