A few months ago I stood in front of a tastefully decorated little stationary shop and realized two minutes too late that shops of this caliber are my absolute downfall. I hovered in front of the big glass window for a good five minutes before pretty paper, little glass vases and colorful hardcovers won out over logic altogether...and I emerged, a triumphant new journal in hand (as well as a breakfast book telling me a hundred and one ways to make a scone).
The cover of my journal looks something like this:
I like swirls, I think, because they go against anything that is square. They overlap, they go against the grain and they somehow make me think of continuity...the one-thing-leads-to-another concept. I have seen so many good things come out of taking leaps of faith, being spontaneous, seemingly hum-drum act of kindness and doing what one loves, that it is hard not to be a fan of this concept.
Sometimes however, bad things happen. The beauty of faith? That in Christ, good always prevails. In Christ a swirl can always be stopped and one can begin again. It all creates the spectacular perfect mess that one sees on the cover in question - the pockets filled with teals, evergreens, magentas, oranges and purples. And that is what we are - beautiful, perfect messes. With pages ready to be filled with God's plan.
Cue slightly over-used, yet undeniably on-track metaphor of handing over the life-pen to Christ as author. You know it.
And so the metaphor continues. Sometimes swirls are broken because I choose to take the pen back. Nothing like the feel of a smooth pen in a hand that enjoys control, enjoys knowing everything there is to know about a situation or the next step. I imagine that God's pen is one of those pens that writes fluidly and elegantly and not too thickly, without a scratch or a break. It is probably gel. Because I smear every time I try and write with it.
But then his goodness inevitably intervenes and I give it back - even though it's sometimes hard to admit he is the better, wittier writer of the two.
And so the perfect mess continues, growing more intricate and more beautiful with every twist of the pen.