"Unveiling Light"
I’ve always had light in me—a potential to shine. I remember being a little girl, skipping down the sidewalk bursting with joy. Every year on my birthday they sang me a song called “Bubble of Joy.” I was always talking, laughing, skipping, dancing, and making silly faces. My light shone so brightly with no inhibitions. One day I was skipping down the sidewalk when my Uncle John was walking in the opposite direction and passed me by. Later that day at church (we had church every day), he made an announcement: my infectious spirit of joy had healed his back pain. I was mortified to be put on the spot, but that moment did stick with me. Could I really have that big an impact just by being myself? As I grew, my light dimmed. The big moments of praise for my light were drowned out by moments of judgment—some from others, plenty from myself. People called me “chatterbox” and “buck-tooth.” My teeth weren’t bucked (just a wide gap), but the teasing burrowed deep in my mind and played on repeat like a broken record. I fed these small things in my mind until they swelled way out of proportion. The irony is that the thing they mocked was my mouth, and little by little I stopped using my authentic voice. There were still beautiful moments, like with my beloved uncle, but I kept making minor judgments massive, and they started to overtake my light. I even asked for prayer to make me talk less when I was about eleven. Now I pray for little girls to love themselves.
Over time my light felt unfamiliar, then lost.
It took me well into my twenties, through a lot of trials to realize there had never been anything wrong with that little girl whose skipping supposedly healed her uncle, whose ears perked up and whose heart sat wide open as “Bubble of Joy” poured over her and amplified who she already was.
I rebuilt. I found my light and planted it again in myself. Now look at me. Shining bright and unashamed.
So I want to encourage you: take a hard look at yourself. Ask, “Do I recognize the person in the mirror? Have I lost or neglected my light because of shame?” Find the light inside you again.Re-plant it. It's your time to shine.
36x48 Mixed Media and Oil on canvas, wired and ready to hang.
I’ve always had light in me—a potential to shine. I remember being a little girl, skipping down the sidewalk bursting with joy. Every year on my birthday they sang me a song called “Bubble of Joy.” I was always talking, laughing, skipping, dancing, and making silly faces. My light shone so brightly with no inhibitions. One day I was skipping down the sidewalk when my Uncle John was walking in the opposite direction and passed me by. Later that day at church (we had church every day), he made an announcement: my infectious spirit of joy had healed his back pain. I was mortified to be put on the spot, but that moment did stick with me. Could I really have that big an impact just by being myself? As I grew, my light dimmed. The big moments of praise for my light were drowned out by moments of judgment—some from others, plenty from myself. People called me “chatterbox” and “buck-tooth.” My teeth weren’t bucked (just a wide gap), but the teasing burrowed deep in my mind and played on repeat like a broken record. I fed these small things in my mind until they swelled way out of proportion. The irony is that the thing they mocked was my mouth, and little by little I stopped using my authentic voice. There were still beautiful moments, like with my beloved uncle, but I kept making minor judgments massive, and they started to overtake my light. I even asked for prayer to make me talk less when I was about eleven. Now I pray for little girls to love themselves.
Over time my light felt unfamiliar, then lost.
It took me well into my twenties, through a lot of trials to realize there had never been anything wrong with that little girl whose skipping supposedly healed her uncle, whose ears perked up and whose heart sat wide open as “Bubble of Joy” poured over her and amplified who she already was.
I rebuilt. I found my light and planted it again in myself. Now look at me. Shining bright and unashamed.
So I want to encourage you: take a hard look at yourself. Ask, “Do I recognize the person in the mirror? Have I lost or neglected my light because of shame?” Find the light inside you again.Re-plant it. It's your time to shine.
36x48 Mixed Media and Oil on canvas, wired and ready to hang.