Today I wanted to share with you a very personal passage from my book First Fruits: 31 Flashes of Biblical Perspective. I know many people who struggle with some form of disability. I am one of them. For anyone who struggles with some form of mental, physical, emotional, or spiritual handicap, I want you to know that you are not alone. I am right there with you fighting to overcome my weaknesses each and every single day. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fall flat on my back. Always I keep trying because sitting and sulking solves nothing. That is why I wrote the following:
Although this might look like a photo of fiber optic cable or some odd sea anemone, this is actually a portrait of angel hair spaghetti pasta when lit from the side by the evening sun. Shot in Pecos, Texas, in November 2010.
The emotional analysis of “Pasta Illumination”:
The blackness of the photo’s depths can represent a spot of emptiness in my soul, which can be interpreted two ways. The first is the crushing emptiness I felt before I met Jesus Christ. The second is the black frustration I felt as a child due to dyslexia.
I am a deeply spiritual person who is hopeful yet skeptical by nature. I discovered Jesus when I was very young and accepted that he died on the cross to save me from my own imperfections because I instinctively knew he was the only thing that could fill a void deep in my being. Over twenty years later, I have continued my relationship with him because he is the only god I have ever known to willingly prove his love for me by both an extreme like death and by little things he does every day. He is also the only person I have ever known to never lie to me and always have my best interests well in hand. He has never once given me bad advice.
It took me many years to understand that he would always be with me and yet would still love me enough to let me make my own decisions—good and bad. It also took me years to understand that the dyslexia God “cursed” me with as an infant is the single reason why I am so creative. My brain, as it turns out, was rewired before birth to make sure I would love art to the extreme while being uniquely cross-wired in my thinking so that I could still analyze my work.
The bright spires of light coming out of the total darkness represent hope and joy—the joy from knowing that I am loved just as I am, the hope that my creativity and my life will encourage others as they seek their own purposes in this life. Of course, darkness still lurks in the form of moments of doubt and frustration, but those are mere spots compared to the void I once felt. After all, if I hold onto the light that I have discovered, it drives away the darkness every time.
The Seared Cookie Report: one Artist/Writer’s Labored Soliloquy (SCRAWLS) is brought to you from the desk of Alycia Christine Sears and/or Alycia C. Cooke with love and virtual baked goods for all. Please let me know your thoughts on this particular topic and, as always, if there is any subject you wish me to discuss, contact me. Thanks!