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treasure chest of mess

So I started a project today. I decided a mission was in order – a mission to collect and sort and organize all the pieces and things and stuff that I have kept over the last several years. 

Things that inspired me. Things that made me laugh. Things that convicted me. Things that made me cry. Journals and books and articles and lyrics and devotionals and random printed pieces of paper. Things I’ve written. 

All stored in enough places that the collection process itself was a challenge, and I’m still not sure I’ve found all my hidey-holes.

I thought this was a good idea. 

Probably it was, but it got overwhelming very quickly.

(the dog was no help, by the way)

I can’t believe how much is there. Really, can’t believe it.

I told a friend it was overwhelming, and she said that I should be looking at it as a treasure hunt. I like that … in fact once she changed my perspective I realized that what I really have is a treasure chest.

Words of wisdom, cries from my heart, scripture, song lyrics, passionate writing by people I respect about things that matter.

I started this quest because I wanted to see if there are themes in the things that make me emotional, passionate, alive. Things that make me laugh, cry, get angry, fall on my knees, sing for joy.

Because I suspect there are. Themes.

And while I don’t think I have anything new to say, I wonder if in this collection somewhere is a bigger story, one that is begging me to write it. I have no idea whether it’s true, or whether it will happen, but I am convinced by some recent conversations and events that I must look, hard, at the possibility.

And I’m terrified at the thought of that possibility. But I think I should at least start. Hold my fear at bay, and just see. See if there’s something in this treasure chest, in this beautiful mess of beloved words. If there is art here.

This beautiful mess will take a lot of work to sort out. But now, instead of being overwhelmed, I’m rather excited to go back and read all the things I kept. Because they meant something important to me, if I made the copy or dogeared the book or wrote it in my journal. And I can’t help but think I will be impacted again. And maybe, just maybe, God will reveal something new to me, about me, and if He does it will be well worth my time. Maybe He will show me how to be an artist with my words.

But for now, I’m satisfied with the day’s work. While this is nowhere close to being organized yet, at least it has gone through an initial sort, and hey! It’s lined up neatly! That’s good enough for today.

Looking for treasure,


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