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My roots have always been tangled…

…with struggling to know how to express myself. As a child, I wasn’t good at talking. I was timid, anxious and introspective. I wasn’t confident in most subjects or skilled at working with my hands.

But I could write.

If imagination were a muscle then I was an Olympic athlete. I may have been insecure about most of my strengths or capabilities, but I loved my ability to feel things. I had a superpower. I saw the world in shades of color that no else knew existed. It was magic. 

I learned to bring emotions , alive and breathing , into the world through my writing and photography. In this way, I was able to help people understand the unique way I experienced life. 

Finally, others could know what my writing had always given me the ability to see: glory in the broken. Joy in everyday simplicity. Triumph over fear. The hope of Christ infused in and arching over every facet of our lives.

Over time, I realized my vast emotional capacity was the thing that fueled my writing. I could make the invisible tangible. Crafting real or imagined stories --the act of taking emotions from abstract into reality-- gave me a safe place to process the intense way I related to the world.

I understood knew what beauty felt like. Interacting with it through writing made me brave. 

I see now that my longing to connect with beauty was ultimately a pursuit of God.

And now, I want to speak to others the truth that healed me, “You can find beauty in what brings you pain or makes you feel out of place. You can know God here.