I don't want to write safe words. Sanitised ponderings that pamper the comfortable mind. I want words that scorch across the page, aflame with something bigger than themselves. I want singed fingers to smart with every turn of the page.
Too many books I read seek to prove their point with science and surveys, citing statistics to bolster the points that they make. But it's not the language of science I seek, my tongue will forever cite the language of the heart.
And yes, I understand that the mind sometimes needs to catch up and agree with the heart, but it's the heart that matters. From the belly, deep in the bowels of our humanity, divinity floods up and pours forth.
The song you sing. The words you write. The pictures you paint. The models you sculpt. They are expressions of something far deeper than talent. They are doorways to connection with reality.
This is the job of the Christian Creative. To become a point of connection.
Argggg. My inner man climbs the wall of convention with a creative cry to gather.
There's a rallying of troops to the front lines to shout new songs on the battlefield. Hundreds are gearing and responding to a new renaissance. It's a day for divinity to rise and shine in all God's kids. Creation itself is longing for the revealing of the Sons.
"For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God." Romans 8:19
I believe in miracles. I believe in the supernatural. I believe in the unique and awesome role of each of God's creations. The importance of becoming whom we know we truly are.
The inner man is revealed by that which comes from the mouth or through the hand. Our words and deeds declare our identity.
Full-stretch we must grapple ourselves free of the world's cocoon and climb into a new reality. One where we cease to police our creativity based on what others may think or say.
Moderation and safe-handling will never change the world. Tempering our words and songs to fit the norm will not shake people awake to see a bigger world.
Now is the time for God's children to come to the fore and let the many rivers break their banks.
I for one have made the decision to scorch my words on the page. Let their untamed wildness find an audience who also hear the trumpet calling.
It's not a 1,2,3 four steps to blogging success. Not the perfect template for a Spotify hit. It's the irresistible draw of creation pulling, ripping, yearning, groaning – reaching in these last days to tear Papa's children from their comforts and daring them to speak.
Whether you speak in color on canvas, fingers on keys, or breath on your lips. Whether its strides in the business world, treading the stage, or placing your feet resolutely in religion – the day has come where creation can no longer silence its contractions.
New songs are begging to be birthed.
Art that awakens is ready to grab the world by its gonads.
Mighty movements and symphonies are rumbling from our Father's belly, looking for a conduit.
Dances of deliverance ready to trample injustice are whirling from the Spirit's wild garments – clothing His movers with supernatural grace that cannot be quantified.
This is no scientific endeavor. You cannot box what's coming into a neat equation.
Dear friends, it is a REVOLUTION! An uprising in the ranks.
The waters are rising and this time it will not just be Noah and his family who call for a turning. Millions will rise in the arts to build an ark and call the world. It is the language of the heart that will move men to climb on board. Bypassing reason our creativity will reach straight to the untamed nature that wrestles to be recognized. The smell of an awakening is flowing from the mountains.
Culture will be overturned and shouts of protest from the gatekeepers will inevitably arise, seeking to quench the fire that's arising.
But we will not be silenced. Jesus, the King is coming, SOON.
And our songs and leaps and words and sweeps of the brush will pave the way!