artistry | Elaine Olsen

an official welcome and give-away

May 20, 2012

Sixteen changes of address. I counted today, and that’s how many I can credit to my life history. I’ve probably missed one or two, and I’m certain I’m not finished. What I am certain of is the temperamental nature of the moving process. It’s an intricate, delicate course of action and shouldn’t be undertaken lightly.

Accordingly, when I contemplated “moving” my website from blogger to wordpress, I did so with some fear and trembling. It’s not been an easy move for me, but thanks to Jen @ Blue Yonder Design, things are settling down, and I’m learning how to rest in my new home. Jen has graciously worked out some of the kinks and quirks that inevitably come with making such a move. The best part about my moving (unlike the sixteen moves I’ve made with a moving van) is the fact that you made this move with me! When I arrived at my new home on WordPress Avenue, you were here, welcoming me into your lives, even as you have been welcoming me for the past four years. It is a blessing and honor to “do life” with you!

Along those lines, I’d like to open up my front door today, welcome you in, and offer you an opportunity to win a few housewarming gifts. Two of you will receive a package at your front door containing the following items (some of my very favorite things):

My good friend, Rebecca, makes jewelry. In particular, she’s a beader. Over the last few weeks, we’ve spent some time together, designing a survivor’s bracelet that will be available for purchase when my book, Beyond Cancer’s Scars, is released this summer. In the meantime, she whipped up these two beauties for me to use as part of my house-warming give-away.

And how about these beautiful note cards, photographed by my friend, Cindy! I use her cards on a regular basis, always to great applause by the recipients. If you’re a card-sender, check out Cindy’s website to order a set.

Audrey Assad. Heard of her? This is her latest musical compilation. I adore her and am glad to be able to share her work with you.

Last but certainly not least, there are two of my favorite fellas—Harry & David. Ever had them over for dessert? Oh my. Any of their delicacies will do, but the dark-chocolate covered raisins are some of my favorites. Yes, I’m going to try and include them in the give-away despite the onset of summer (subject to change due to extreme weather in your area).

And there you have it. A few of my favorite things to two of you, my gracious, faithful readers. For a chance to win, leave a comment here telling me one of your favorite things about your home. It could be something as huge as a big screen television or as small as a favorite spot to have your morning coffee. What delights are lurking in your home? You can earn another chance to win by sharing this post on your facebook and/or twitter pages. Be sure to leave me a separate comment letting me know. This contest will remain open until midnight, Sunday, May 27th. Two winners will be chosen by random drawing.

Again, thank you for the privilege of allowing me into your life and for joining me on the journey of faith. There are days when my world feels pretty small. Having you here enlarges it. I love you all so very much. As always…

Peace for the journey,
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on solving the problem of pain…

August 18, 2011

“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men. Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good.” –1 Corinthians 12:4-7

Take time to consider your creative side. We all have one—a creative edge to our personalities. Some of us writers, painters, musicians, chefs, singers, cooks, sewers, teachers, marketers, photographers, scrapbookers, gardeners, planners. The list is endless, and while you might not consider yourself particularly creative, you cannot escape the label. Why? Because you’ve been created in the image of God. Accordingly, there’s something about you that resembles the creative pulse of the Creator.

Along these lines, I have a question for you. It didn’t originate with me. It belongs to Jeannie Burlowski. She first asked it of me a couple of months ago during a pre-conference seminar for She Speaks. The session was designed to better prepare writers for their upcoming publisher meetings at the conference. Part of the preparation included writing a book proposal—a thirty-forty page document detailing an idea for a book, a marketing plan, and a few writing samples. As Jeannie was discussing the various components of the proposal and how it should be presented to publishers, she said something that interrupted my note-taking and forced my thinking.

“How does your book … your words help solve the problem of pain?”

Sit with that a minute. I did. In fact, I’ve sat with this question ever since first receiving it. It struck me back then; it strikes me still. The problem of pain and my words as a healing agent therein.

Really? Seriously? Apparently.

You see, no matter how I turn it, consider it, and think about it, I think she’s right. Not just as it pertains to me as a writer, but to all of us who create. We’re all in the business of solving pain. We may not realize the importance of our roll in the matter, but at the root of all creativity is this idea that art solves pain. We create because it brings us pleasure; in doing so, it brings others pleasure as well. Otherwise, why bother to pick up the pen or the paintbrush or the cookbook? Creativity helps to heal the wounded. And who of us haven’t felt some pain? Who of us haven’t “created” in an attempt to salve the pain of others?

And so, as you consider your creative bent, I ask you the same question I’ve been asking of myself over these past months. How does your creativity—whether in music, words, pictures, recipes—help solve the problem of pain? I know. It feels weighty, almost too much responsibility attached to our giftings.

Nonetheless, we cannot escape the reality that our “art” is a direct reflection of our God-given talents. The generous dispensation of creativity that Creator-Father has seeded into each one of us requires that we share it with others. In doing so, we bring joy to the earth. Whenever we create we sow eternal life, goodness, and hope into the temporal soil of pain.

Without art, we all suffer. Without creativity, we tend to forget the Creator. Without vision, we remain as we are, and left as we are, we’re unfinished.

There’s a whole lot of pain in this world yet untouched by the creativity residing in you. Your giftings are meant to be applied to that pain. Don’t underestimate your creativity just because it looks different from your neighbor’s. We shouldn’t measure our artful reflections against the artful reflections of others. It’s not fair to our DNA, and it certainly undercuts the witness of our Father’s fingerprints on our lives.

He made each of us unique, different, and with a specialness that can only display its worthiness through the skin delicately designed to hold its beauty. You are the owner of that skin, and you are given the rich privilege of unveiling your creativity as a healing agent to the problem of pain.

Take your creativity seriously, friends. Live it wildly, and share it liberally with the world. I, for one, have been the direct beneficiary of your giftings; they’ve have gone a long way to help solve the problem of my pain. Keep to it. I will endeavor to do the same. As always…

Peace for the journey,
~elaine
PS: What does your creativity lead you to create? How does it help solve the problem of pain? I’d love to hear from you.

a single thing

February 15, 2010

“…being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philipppians 1:6).

A few days ago, I wrote a post—a few rambling words brought about because of a single picture that spoke a single word to my spirit. Peace.

If truth be known (and really what profit is there in pretending), I didn’t want to write anything. My pen has grown weary in recent days. In fact, a certain fear crept over me last week, albeit momentary, that, perhaps, for the first time in a long time, I had nothing to say… nothing worthy to write. I’ve heard of writer’s block before, but I’ve never experienced it. Even typing that feels strange, almost ominous, almost as if by speaking it aloud, it might come on in full measure after hitting the “publish” button to this post. If I’ve written it once, I’ve written it a dozen times…

For as long as God allows the ink, I’ll keep penning my heart for him. And so, despite my feelings regarding an empty computer screen and with ample tears to go alongside, in obedience I began to type and pray. Pray and type, all the while asking the Lord to just use it as he would… if he would. Apparently, he has, and that, my friends, is no credit to me. It’s a credit to him.

God honors our obedience to use our gifts, most days in spite of us. We can choose our “no’s”—decline his offer of kingdom investment into the lives of others—but our “no’s” do nothing to further his agenda. Certainly there are seasons when our weariness and worn-out status diminish our effectiveness. We must heed those prompts of needful restoration. But even then, God will always use our willingness when our willingness concedes the struggle to his hands over ours… when we get to the end of ourselves and simply say, “If you will, Lord, use me once more in this single thing.”

A single thing.

We never know when ours will make an impact… our single thing—our one act of obedience, chosen freely despite feelings, emotions, and wills that sometime lead us to consider another direction. Instead of choosing self, we choose a single thing that extends influence beyond personal gratification—that changes the direction in someone else’s life, albeit seemingly small and immeasurable. We…

Bake some bread.
Pen a card.
Visit the sick.
Send a gift.
Run the carpool line.
Make a call.
Share a ride.
Hug a neck.
Speak a word.
Write a check.
Answer an E-mail.
Say a prayer.
Lend a hand.
Offer some time.
Share a smile.
Voice some truth.
Do some chores.
Live some love.
Give some Jesus.

Single things, when gathered and collected, become a big thing in the lives of those who stand on the receiving end. We’ve all been the recipients of single things; time and again our need has dictated their arrival. If we were to chronicle those single things—perhaps even the ones that have been lavishly bestowed upon us over the past week—then we would begin to understand the length that our Father’s love is willing to travel in order for us to have a more perfect life.

He’s working it all out, friends, in a way that exceeds comprehension, and he’s using us as his conduits of sacred dispensation. He’s taking the single things of our single days and weaving them into a tapestry that radiates with kingdom color and creativity. Rarely are we aware of his workings as they unfold, for we are a people easily distracted by temporal details and frustrations. God’s goodness continues in its liberality within our day-to-days, but without pause in our spirits to receive his invitation of sacred participation or to receive his goodness as it arrives, we come to the end of our days barely aware of his entrance and intervention on our behalf.

This week you will stand on both sides of God’s equation for goodness; you will receive it in abundance as well as be called upon in some capacity to add to someone else’s. Your obedience with your single thing will bring color to God’s bigger thing—a portrait that collectively gathers grace upon grace to paint a masterpiece worthy of the throne room of heaven. You may think that your single thing doesn’t matter, is too small and too inferior to make a difference. But your obedience to that single thing may just be the one thing that shifts the eternal foundation of someone’s forever.

Don’t underestimate your single thing, friends. Don’t diminish your obedience to use the gifts that God has generously seeded within your heart for kingdom progress. He who began a good work in you is faithful to bring it to completion. Not just for your sake, but more importantly, for his.

Keep to your single thing; keep yielding your heart in obedience as the Spirit prompts, and see if he is not faithful to make it all count! These are good days to be serving alongside of you in continuing faithfulness. Let us march the steps of our spiritual ancestors, believing God for far more than the eye can see, mind can conceive, and heart can imagine. I love you. As always…

peace for the journey,

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Ruby Tuesdays: A Mighty Woman (part five)

April 21, 2009

Join us today over at Refreshmoments for Ruby Tuesdays! Add your own post to the mix and link accordingly. To read my previous posts, click here.

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“In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers.” (Proverbs 31:19).

Distaff and spindles.

A calling, friends, if ever there was one. Why? Because it requires the use of both hands and a full attention therein. Spinning fibers into thread is a skilled and ancient art form … a gifting that exceeds our casual and over the counter purchases of fabric. Fabric roots back to the thread. Without thread, no blankets, no garments, no coverings of soft and tender to wrap our flesh and our need.

Modern technology has made the progression from wool to yarn an easier reach; but you’ve got to give it up for those who possess the capacity to create a tapestry through the giftings and sole intention of their hands. For those who have enough vision to see the end before the beginning. For the rare few who have the capacity to weave the unusable into something substantial.

Our modern approach to the finished product holds little interest to the weaver of ancient tradition. Instead, what matters to the weaver is the craftsmanship that exists to bring about the fruition of a hard day’s labor … a life’s long endeavor. To hold the distaff and the spindles and then to couple them in unison to create a thread that will serve a greater purpose is the lifeblood and heartbeat behind a weaver.

Indeed, a calling of supreme and everlasting significance.

As it is with the weavers of an ancient thread, so it is with a mighty woman. Thus, a question or two as it pertains to the holdings of your hands.

What boasts the grasp of your fingers this day? What distaff and spindles have been entrusted to your hands? What is the tapestry commissioned to your tender care and intention? What artistry has been assigned your life? What weaving is yours alone for the lacing?

We’ve all been given one. A gift. A treasure. An unusable holding assigned to us for its reshaping into something of worth. Mine doesn’t necessarily look like yours; yours could never perfectly fit into mine. Yet all are worthy as it pertains to the embroidering of an eternal kingdom.

From the very beginning, our gracious God has been working it out through the likes of you and me. For some reason beyond reasonable sense, He’s allowed us the gift of sacred participation … of adding our own colors and schemes and fanciful whimsies into the mix of a greater purpose. Through us, He seeds the full spectrum of a sacred and unified kaleidoscope.

It may look like chaos to us, but through His eyes and because of His imagination, the giftings that He has allowed our hands, paint a perfect portrait of a faultless to stand before the throne kind of finish. Accordingly, who would deny Father God the privilege of seeing his many threads weave together to unite as a beautiful fabric?

I don’t want the guilt of God’s objection. Instead, I want my hands to know the fullness of the distaff and the spindle that have been specifically designed for my grasp. I want to be one of the rare few who are able to imagine the end, even as I begin to weave my “unusable” into something of worth. I don’t want the fast forward approach of modern technology to rob me of the joy that comes from an intentional and, sometimes, challenging participation.

Instead, I want the satisfaction of holding a finished product that has come about because of a willingness to fill my hands with the business at hand. God’s business, not mine.

That, my friends, is a calling. When we take hold of all of that for which Christ Jesus has taken hold of us, we cradle our life’s long endeavor that always weaves substantial and that continually breathes with all the providential hope and joy of heaven.

Distaff and spindles. What’s in your hand this day?

Weave it well and with all the craftsmanship of a mighty kingdom participant who understands the truth of a sacred holding. Only you can spin your gift. It is your privilege to do so. Thus, I pray…

Show me the worth of my hands, Father. Fill them with the truth of your giftings for my life. Forgive me for thinking it not enough … not worthy of my intention or my time. Whatever treasure you place within my hands, give me a deliberate heart to tend to it with the finest service toward your kingdom end. Thank you for trusting me with a part of your perfected tapestry. May I always be found faithful to weave my portion in willing accord with you heart. Amen.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

December 19, 2008

UPDATE ON CD WINNER BELOW…

“Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. …” (Isaiah 40:28a).

Do you hear what I hear?

I wish you could have.

Heard what I heard.

Last night at the Durham Performing Arts Center.

Piano man extraordinaire, Jim Brickman, and his ensemble cast including…

*the earthy and gutsy voice of Anne Cochran.
*the pure and tranquil voice of Canadian sensation Mark Masri.
*the raw, unedited, yet perfectly tuned six-string electric violin belonging to Tracy Silverman.
*the rich and full orchestration of the accompanying North Carolina Symphony Orchestra.

To give words to such an event risks lessening the experience, but I thought I should try … at least in part.

Last evening’s “night on the town” was a gift to me. One I had been planning for months. I am a Jim Brickman fan. His music takes me places. His artistry is a rare gift. A mix of God-given talent coupled with a willingness to tend to that gift. And when the two merge as one, when the divine enabling mixes with the fleshly obedience, the result is breathtaking. Life changing. The stuff of kingdom living as it was meant to breathe and to walk on this side of eternity.

Thus, when I heard that Jim would be performing nearby, I purchased four tickets. Two for Billy and me. Two for my parents. A surprise for the people who know me best and who, perhaps, love me the most. Some pauses are worth the pocketbook, friends. Last night was one of them.

From the first note on the keyboard, to the final bow of our host, I sat spellbound. Perched on the edge of my expectation, I could have lingered for hours. The Christmas carols were in full bloom, along with some of Mr. Brickman’s most endearing melodies. Two hours and a few tissues later, it was over.

Still and yet, the music and the memory lingers.

The totality of participating in something far grander than my limited attempts at living accordingly is worth the pennies that I pinched to take me there. To see and to hear the fullness of artistry in motion and in living color is a rare and precious privilege for this home-spun girl clothed with a heart full of dreams and a past full of heartaches.

Last night was about believing. About recapturing the hope that scripts my heart with the truth that my life was meant to sing its worth, even as it has for my new musical friends. And while I don’t know where they are in their faith journeys … if they even understand from where their giftedness roots … I believe they have some inclination.

Who can sing the witness of the Savior’s birth while harboring the totality of darkness within? At least they were willing to allow their gifts–their voices and their instruments–to be the stage for the Song of the season.

The Christ Child. The Joy to the world. The Hark behind the angels voices. The Babe of the silent night. The most important Gift under our trees and upon his own this Christmas season.

As Christians, we all house the immortal, invisible, highest ranking and soul-changing Spirit of this living Gift. He makes his humble home within our feeble flesh. It doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t seem right; still and yet, he has allowed his musical score its voice via ours.

Through our songs. Our words. Our pens. Our work. Our homes. Our churches. Our kindnesses. Our love.

Regardless of your capacity to carry a tune or to play an instrument, your Father has endowed you with a gifting all your own. Yours doesn’t necessarily look like mine, and mine? Well it’s taken me the better part of forty-two years to be settled on the fact that mine doesn’t have to voice like yours.

As children, created in the image of the Most High God, we house the seeds of eternity within (Ecc. 3:11). And when those seeds are coupled with our willingness to tend to this unmerited yet freely given divine favor, the results are breathtaking. Life changing. The stuff of kingdom living as it was meant to breathe and to walk on this side of eternity.

Do you hear what I hear? Greater still, are you walking the truth of that hearing? I wish that you would. It is your privilege to do so. It is mine, also. Thus, may we all endeavor to walk the obedience of such a sacred listening.

God continues to write his musical score through the likes of you and me. And that, my friends, is the best Gift of Christmas we will unwrap in this and in every season of our lives. As always,

PS: Congratulations to Cheryl B. for winning an autographed copy of Jim’s “Homecoming” Christmas CD (my personal favorite). Please snail mail me your email Cheryl.

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