Inspiration is far more patchwork quilt than seamless silk, isn’t it? I think it’s that way for all of us. Rarely is it a thing that inspires us to do anything good with our hands; rather, it’s everything that wells up within us when we see or taste or hear or inhale something that lights even the smallest holy fire.
If you would have told me ten years ago that I would find inspiration in the faces of ancient souls or in the tears of teen moms or in the small glimpses of your lives (yes, yours), I’m not sure I would have understood.
If you would have told me how much the smell of dirt and diesel would fuel words on paper, how grief would become a close friend in the process of living and writing, or how deeply in love I would fall with the gumption of Mary or the bravery of Phoebe or the cleverness of the sisters of Zelophehad in scripture, I might have honestly rolled my eyes and laughed.
And yet, here we are, with inspiration coming from all sorts of places and people and moments in time. Here we are, with little holy fires burning all around us, ready to spark our hearts and warm our hands to do such good. Here we are, given the most delightful patchwork quilt.
I’m not sure how the inspiration will find us today, love. But this I do know. It is already here. We’re in this together, and I’m praying for all the little fires within you.