Wednesday, July 17, 2013

craving space

i am craving my own space.

ever since we lost the dream house, the place in which we are tucked now has seemed to slowly be closing in around me. it's begun to feel smaller than it every had before.

i find myself sitting at the kitchen table with my art, merging paint and canvas with dishes and bank statements. it is not my space, it is collective space but not in a communal artist way. it in shared in a life way, a way that doesn't ever stop but simply moves around me. and sometimes, it feels like it is slowly pushing my artistic spirit down the nearby garbage disposal.

mermaids crave the ocean, the wide and the open, the salty spray and the peace of the selah-crashing waves. i am landlocked, in more ways that one, with the nearest water being bottled and chilling in the fridge.

and maybe that is why i have grieved the loss of this house so deeply, in a way that almost seems like a part of my physical self had fled. it has been a rending, a true exploration into that word that has become far stronger than i could have ever anticipated :: release. 

art has become something powerfully present in my life in recent months, especially as my own faith journey has taken unexpected twists and turns. it's that demolition, as my husband calls it, the breaking down of all i once knew save for the foundation of the Lion to whose shimmering mane i cling. i'm relearning the sacred, finding my soft Psalmist voice again. it's release. 

:: and even in the crush, releasing myself might be part of the grand scheme of the things after all. 

because i'm past the point of being able to find a corner of my own in this tiny little place we currently and i reluctantly call home. though home is where your heart is, and my loves are here. so this is home. i am creating in the midst of our life, where the Light shares between my ink and paper pages and the aromas of home-cooked food and laundry soap.

and so i'm laying out the brushes and opening the journal, a new blank page in the middle of my worship place at the kitchen table. i light a candle and exhale the holiest of God-Light to the tune of stillness in the midst of the household busyness. i'm learning how to find my warrioress self amid the pulsing thrum of vacuums and pasta water boiling.

finding my space which i crave so desperately.
even if it means this mermaid swims {for now} in the kitchen sink.

{linking with dear emily for imperfect prose}


  1. Dear Rachel
    This makes me think that we were never created to live in a broken dark world, but for now, until Jesus has made everything new, we also need to swim as best we can in an orphaned world!
    Much love XX

  2. praying for waves to wash over you, lightly, freely, refreshing every spot that aches and longs for more

  3. How beautiful you share your heart. Praying that God meets you in a powerful way as you meet with Him.

  4. I feel this deeply- the craving for space. As a mom of five who lives in noise and mess, who knows the meaning of CROWDED all too well- I sometimes just ache for space to think and dream and be. And yet, more than physical space, I think I'm crying out for soul space- for a place for my spirit to breath deeply and be inspired by the Artist of my life. Praying soul space over you today, too. So glad I found you through Jennifer's link up yesterday.

  5. i need to do some art. you have awakened the desire within me. thank you sweet rachel... so glad you're creating a place to call home.

  6. it will def shake you when you are taken from the comfortable...and the craving of that space i think is universal...i get it as well....keeping my boys and the aspie kid this summer i have felt that burn...going to get some time this weekend...and might have to break out my watercolors again...


I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know there's nothing but light when I see you. :: Shinji Moon