When You Cling to the Rising

Today on SheLoves I am writing when I am in the middle of something. Really just at the very beginning. It is probably better and prudent to wait until the whole thing pans out so I can either never speak of it, or speak of it often to the glory of God. But I am not doing that. Instead I am clinging to the rising of hope. I am publicly Hoping that this thing just might work. 

“But how? How are we going to accomplish that, God? How is this going to happen?” It was one of those chicken and egg problems. I needed a space to generate the art to get the funds, but I needed the funds to get the space where I could put the artist. I really needed an artist, but I didn’t have the funds or the space for that either.

I had been dreaming with my pastor about the intersection of art and justice. If God is a creative God who creates all people to create, what does that say about the lack of opportunity for our brothers and sisters who are experiencing homelessness, who do not have access to ways of creation? No laptop for writing, no instruments, no paint and brushes and easels. How can we facilitate all people to create in the image of our creator? These were the questions we were asking, but we hadn’t even begun articulating an answer, when an artist showed up to eat breakfast with us.

You can read the rest here.

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