I have all these friends, who are mystics and artists. They do things every day that set them free. They color their hair and burn lies on paper and brake plates and howl at the moon. Like litterally. They howl at the moon.
Most of the time I scoff and shrug. If it works for them, that is great, but surely that won’t work for me.
Bethany writes on herself. She takes a sharpie to her own skin and writes the truth she needs to remember, about our God, about the world, about herself. Cool. It works for her.
Then she invited me to try it. What? Me? I write on blogs, not on myself. But what if I did? Coudl it help me remember too?
I tried it. I think I like it. You can read about it here.