Do I make more sense now?
Updated: Mar 6
In college I made myself a T-shirt. It said- “Art major. Make more sense now?” Surprisingly, I regularly had friends and classmates walk by and smile with a moment of clarity as if that one sentence was able to neatly categorize my electric style, the pencils that would get lost in my unruly red hair, or every pair of jeans I owned that had paint on them. Oh this was why she studies in a tree in the middle of campus
“I have three kids. So I need this ice cream cone.”
“I’m buying these legos for my children.”
“I have off today, I’m not just lazy.”
The only problem with this shirt idea has been my constant battle. Why do we have to have a reason? We as complex, beautiful creations of God cannot be summed up in a sentence, nor did He ever intend for us to be. For most of my life I’ve found myself warring between embracing my free spirited artistic side and my logical practical brain. But every now and then I want to be both. Don’t you?
“Wearing linen, David danced before the Lord with all his might.” -2 samuel 6:14 I just get the feeling he didn’t care what others were thinking about the status quo at that moment…
I’m not suggesting that we must throw off appropriateness or practicality- those things are beautiful parts of the whole, but perhaps could there be more for us? Could we run in the sprinklers with our kids even though we might be wet cooking dinner? Could we sing a different line during worship because that’s where our heart is? I bet sometimes Jesus sat in a tree or walked off the beaten path. I have a feeling that if we spent less time trying to explain ourselves to others that don’t understand and simply let more of the joy of the Lord spill out- we would see with a different pair of glasses. We would see people that aren’t judging, but curious at our freedom and joy. Sure- there will always be that classmate that gives you an upturned nose at your shrug to propriety, but how many more just want to join in? My husband still sings whatever verses he wants to during worship, he still has ridiculous style if I let him, and he is still fine sprinting through places instead of calmly walking- but now it makes me smile and its challenged me to be comfortable being every part of me that God made me to be.
So if you see me out and about and I have paint all over my hands because I was in the art studio, my shirt can simply say:
“I am me. A child of God. And I do not always have to make sense.”
Did any of that make sense? Well if not, see previous line.