Gratitude Friday...

I listen to a podcast with Jamie Ivy, "The Happy Hour."  It's an easy-peasy format.  Two girlfriends just talking about everyday stuff.  Sometimes she has a guest she doesn't really know and those are more interview like but most of the time, it's simple and pleasant.

Podcasting is my new running addiction.  Or necessity, depending on how long I have to run that day.

Anyway, the latest episode of "The Happy Hour" was with Jamie's husband, Aaron.  He's a worship pastor at their church in Austin.  From what I've gathered through Jamie's podcasts, Aaron is part chef, part rockstar and part DIYer.  

Those are my words to describe him.  Not hers.  Although, I feel like she would agree.  

I was listening to Aaron today (again).  He was talking about the ebb and flow of creative.  Sometimes its output and sometimes its input.  For example, right now he's reading absolutely nothing.  Jamie always asks her guests what they're reading.  Because "readers are leaders."  That admission of guilt, for reading nothing, started the conversation about the input and output of creative.

This past summer was crazy for me.  Us.  We.  And extended We.  

Because MOVING.

Y'all know I'm pretty much a professional mover but it still takes a lot out of girl.  Setting up house is a whole thing.  

When Mrs. JT came for annual visit in October, she just stood in my living room.  Staring.  

It kinda got weird there for a minute.

Then she said, "You set up house faster than anyone I've ever known."

Now, understand, I'm not exactly sure how many people she knows who move every 3-4 years.  But regardless.

My response was to remind her we'd been in the house since July.  Three months seems an awfully long time to live in an unsettled house.  TO ME.  But I'm sure there are people who do it.

But because I was setting up house and dreaming about our new life and enjoying fun stuff like THE POOL, I would say, I was riding the high tide of creative output there.  

New light fixtures, figuring out how to decorate the new place with old stuff, painting patio furniture, shopping for new curtains, etc.  And there were some baby showers in there too so onesies and tutus were made.  

(Can we all just stop and adore the cuteness of that right there?) 

(Babies are just the BEST.) 

(Especially other people's babies!  I get to sleep all night and STILL make onesies.)  
Anyway, I spent all spring and summer dreaming about this past fall.  About all the things I would make and words I would write and rest I would get during those precious 12 HOURS both kids were in school.  

But then fall came and I found myself drained and withdrawn and became an absolute non-producer.  

A couple of times, because this was risky territory, Chris even mentioned how my plans for the fall had not really come to pass.  

He was gentle with me.  But he was curious.

What I did do, though, was read.  A lot.  For the first time since...I graduated from college?  A literature degree will KILL your love of reading.  For real.

And I spent serious time walking around thrift stores and antique shops and consignment stores.  Some buying but mostly just mindlessly enjoying doing things ALONE and FREELY.

It was good.  All of it was good.  

So, bringing it back to the podcast, when Aaron said that about input and output, it was a light bulb moment for me.  

It's sort of a leap to dare say I'm a creative person.  Feels like that should be reserved for people who are actually making a living CREATING things.  I'm writing mostly for myself and the three people who read my words occasionally.  And certainly no one's paying me to decorate their living space or make them pumpkin tee shirts.  Those are just hobbies.  

Although, on the random occasion someone would compliment me on something I've written or decorated or hand-stitched, they would usually say the word, "talented."  To which I would deny that and say, Oh, I'm just creative.  Not an artist or anything.  

But listening to other creatives on Jamie's podcast and reading blogs and books about the process, I'm starting to really question my denial.  

Maybe I am a creative person.  And not just someone who reads Pinterest like its her job.  

Maybe I can write words worth reading.  Even if no one ever pays me for a single one of them, they still have value.  

Maybe I can create a home or an outfit or a living space worthy of being called beautiful and warm and welcoming.  Even though those are likely just created for my people.  

Then my Father whispers.

He reminds me of how much He's been speaking to me this fall.  In oh so many ways.  

Our winter and spring during The Pruning, God was silent.  Really.  I'd love to sugar coat that.  But I can't.  He spoke to me through the amazing things He did in others but as for directly to me, nothing.  

It was hard.

The fall though was like the flood gates were open.  I started keeping a list of the ways He was speaking.  It was eye-opening for sure.  Proving yet again that I cannot simply push something off as a "just." 

So not only was this fall a season of input from books and rest and dreaming, it was a season of input from my good and gracious and loving Father.  He spoke volumes.  Made me sit up and listen in a way I haven't done in a couple of years.  

Not sure what all this input will result in.  

Write a book proposal?  I have a zillion and one notes and thoughts and dreams ready to go.  And even if no one other than my children read the words, it will be worth it.

Finish at least a couple of the projects I've got planned in the house?  My Pinterest boards would thank me for actually doing something instead of just pinning pictures of others actually doing things.

Create and bless others with more handmade creations?  I've got an entire BOX of supplies and a brand new sewing machine God sent me this December.  I haven't been able to share about those yet because I tend to cry.  A lot.

I don't know.  

But I do know, because I can feel it, the time has come for some output.  What that looks like, we'll have to wait and see.  

Regardless of how it looks, I am grateful for all the input this past season.  Grateful for things like podcasts and creative people who share their gifts with us and for a Father who rains down goodness and kindness on me.