Drawing of come tell me, child. I totally had this song in my while working on this. I wanted to be in his Hall of Frames. where he showcased kids drawings that were sent in. badly. I have this vague memory of watching a particular episode at my grandma’s/ Waiting. wishing, hoping he’d be holding my drawing. When he wasn’t, I cried. I think I gave up on drawing after that. Silly, I know/ Way before I knew poetry, I used to draw stick people and flowers. And I didn’t care about perfection.
And Pappy made drawing look so easy. You just draw a circle and some lines and boom: a nice looking animal from earth. I think he’s the person who gave me the courage to believe I could be good at something. He’s also the first one who made rejection a kick to the stomach. It wasn’t enough for me to believe my mom & grandma, I had to risk this guy who reminded me of my grandpa, saying no.
I know now he wasn’t the one to blame. He most likely had a team of people selecting the pieces of art to be featured. And I’m sure I had way too much I would become famous. Famous as in, he would incite me on the show and teach me to draw. Or at least twirl a pencil. Pappy made drawing have a calm, a joy to express your soul without fear of judgement. He , but I think as a little girl, I hoped he was as kind in real life. Kind of enough to tell me personally, I was an artist.
But, maybe he did without personal recognition. In the way he made me believe I was already good enough. Good enough to let my stick figures and flowers out. Even if they weren’t like everyone else’s. It’s crazy to me that at 6, I wanted to be validated, known, seen by someone in New York as a girl who has “it”.
Right there is where my dreams were off. Because if Pappy (or his team) told me yes, I still would of been hungry. I probably would’ve gone into fantasy land, dreaming I’d be chosen every time. And that’s not healthy. Because, Earth to Julia: I already have “it”– a divine design aching love. I don’t need to be chosen every day to see I’m loved. I’m worthy whether or not, I someone tells me so.
When I look at how I draw, I laugh a little because the 6 year old me is woven through those heart-winged angels. Clouds that look like flowers. And Jesus, who adorns a shaw & bare feet. I shouldn’t be ashamed if I coming to Jesus as a child. It’s how we receive heaven, by giving heart. Messy joy. full love. Somewhere in the midst to give Pappy a piece of this mess, I must have had the urge to share this love.
This love Jesus delights give. I’m thinking my 24 year old self needs to believe what 6 year old me whispers: He sees me, the child who’s falling in dreams where he is the color.