This may end sorely.
words + photograph Julie Johnson
What began as a portfolio piece has evolved into a big dream imagined by a big dreamer. Me. I’m the big dreamer. The what-iffer. I can take a penny-for-your-thoughts and turn it into a mountain of possibilities in no time flat. My brain and heart constantly host get-togethers behind the scenes that factory-produce one idea after another. Most are ridiculous. But somehow, a chunk of whacky thoughts lend themselves to sparks now and again.
Like this magazine.
For several months, I have steered myself ever-so-cautiously through canals of ferociously written, potentially promising subjects and themes. The closer I came to May, though, the more I wanted to never speak of this foolishness again. My idea conveyor belt has refurbished itself into an easy-to-duplicate doubt mold that could run circles around Santa’s elves and their toy-building expertise.
In other words, I have escaped quitting by a very, very, very, very small quantity of let’s-just-see-what-happens. And the Lord. Really, mostly the Lord because if it were up to introverted me, I’d close up shop and bake cinnamon rolls.
The Lord’s steadfast love is immoveable. It won’t move, can’t move.
Here’s the deal. Whether or not anyone reads this post or the next (though you will, right?), there is one truth I am fighting to without-a-doubt know: The Lord loves me unconditionally. And His unconditional love for me is steadfast. I know this because I read it in the Bible. A lot. The authors of Psalms repeat over and over and over and over again how the Lord’s love is steadfast. What I didn’t know was what “steadfast” meant, so I looked it up: immoveable. The Lord’s steadfast love is immoveable. It won’t move, can’t move. His unconditional love for me — which I did not, could not earn, ever in a billion years — isn’t going anywhere. Though I feel He has orchestrated this publication, even if I shut it down now, my God wouldn’t love me less. He created me. He sent His son, Jesus, to die for me. He plotted a path in order for me to be alive at. this. moment.
I wonder how many people in our community need to know they are loved unconditionally by our Creator whose steadfast love isn’t one look away from bolting out the door. Me. I need to know that, be reminded of that. Over and over and over and over again. Allowing something different in my life, pushing straight through doubts and frustrations and blank pages and fears and insecurities is hard and scary and tiresome.
But I know it’s okay because the Lord’s steadfast love for me, and you, is immoveble.