The Clay

The Clay by Ron DiCianni

This is my most favorite work of art in the world.  One day I hope to own a copy.  It never fails that everytime I see this painting, I am reminded that God is continuously working on me.  There seem to me so many 'rough edges' in my life, and sometimes it feels like it is all just hopeless.  But then I see this picture and hope and faith are restored. 

Sometimes I feel like I'm wandering in the desert alone, then I remember that sand can be used to smooth rough edges.  Sometimes I feel like I'm caught in the rapid undercurrent of a river, then I remember that swiftly moving water can be used to smooth rough edges.  Sometimes I feel like I'm in the middle of a driving rain, then I remember that rain can be used to wash away dirt and make things clean.  Sometimes I feel like I'm walking through a fire and the heat is more than I can bear, then I remember that it is through fire that things are made pure.

All of the things we go through, both good AND bad, easy AND difficult help shape us.  God uses it all for HIS glory, not ours.  A lot of the time, I don't like this because I want a little of the glory for me - "Look what I've done" or "I've been through so much, and look at me now."  My stark reality: it's not about me...it's about Him, it's about showing what He's done in and through me. 

These mindsets in me are the 'rough edges' that He lovingly but strongly chisels away.  He uses the lonely desert, the water's current, the driving rain and the unbearable fire to create, mold, refine and shape me into a vessel of honor to do His will.  I learned long ago that the best kind of pot to shine a light through isn't one of beauty and perfection, but one that is cracked.  It's through those cracks that enough light is given us to take one step at a time. 

"Yet, O Lord you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand."

Isaiah 64:8

Two Gold Bars

In early September of 2008, I restarted a journey; a path that I'd left 10 years prior.  Two and a half years ago, I was a white belt in TaeKwonDo. 


Testing as a white belt.  I'm on the far right.

My journey continued from White Belt to Yellow, then Green, Green Sr., Blue, Blue Sr., Brown, Brown Sr., Red, Red Sr., and finally in April of 2010 - I tested for my Black Belt.

 

 

 

 

I have recently hit another TaeKwonDo milestone.  I have earned my 2nd Degree Black Belt. 

 This was a day that I'd only dreamed of.  Just about everyone that I've asked about what their goal is for training in TaeKwonDo, their answers are all time same: "I want to get my black belt."  But of all those who "want" to earn their black belt, few actually accomplish it, and the numbers who continue their artistic journey are even fewer.  With each level of rank, and each bar that is added to a belt; it's a huge statement of committment, courage, and perseverance. 

It's not always easy; it can be stressful, painful, and tearful.  But we do what we love, and love what we do.  We are Martial Artists.  I am a Martial Artist.  I am a Black Belt with Two Gold Bars!

A Test of Celebration

In our style of martial arts, we train for a cycle of 2 months and at the end of that cycle we hold our rank testing.  It is a chance to show off what we have learned and the progress we've made.  But more importantly - it is truly a celebration of the martial spirit and our art: our beautiful and powerful art.

Today was a celebration indeed!  I watched with awe and inspiration over 40 of my students 'celebrate' their progress with such honor, perseverance, community and strength.  They cheered for each other, and supported each other.  Forms were performed with grace and focus, sparring done with precision and courage, techniques delivered with accuracy, and board were broken without failure. 

These students always amaze and inspire me.  I am grateful for their abilities, their perseverance, and their dedication.  Each time I watch them, I am encouraged.  I'm so glad that they allow me the honor of celebrating with them. 

I'll be missing you...

"...In all the old, familiar places that this heart of mine embraces all day through..."

One of the hardest things to do (epecially for me) is making friends.  I didn't really have many friends when I was younger - but that was forceful choice.  I kept everyone at arms lengths for a variety of reasons.  However, during college - that's when I started to really make friends...  Some were those who were only for a season, and some were for a specific reason.  A few will be my friends for a lifetime.  ALL of them taught me lessons that I will carry with me wherever I go.

I met some in the School of Music at FSU.  I met some in the dorm I lived in.  I met some in the campus minstry I was involved in.  I met a few in a couple of the churches I attended and met many in TaeKwonDo.  I've mentored some, been counseled by some, been kissed by a few, hugged by a bunch, trusted by some and confided in some.  I believe; however, that at one point or another that I have been loved by all in some form or fashion.

One drawback to all these friends: they are not nearby.  Either they moved away, or stayed when I moved.  4 months ago, I moved to a new and unfamiliar city where I aquainted with only one person.  I moved to a place in my life where there is a need to make new friends, but the ability to do so has proven difficult.  Learning to trust new hearts wasn't a lesson that I wanted undergo again in my lifetime.  It is so scary for me.  I've learned that with trust come a great chance for being hurt, but without it - it lessens the chance to love and be loved. 

I have found that even the smallest things create in me such a longing for the touch of a friend, and I begin to miss them so much.  The sights and sounds of Starbucks (perhaps that's really why i find myself there so often), a beautiful sunset, the smell of burning leaves, the touch of a cool breeze...the knowledge of their sadness.  Or perhaps nothing at all - just a stroll down memory lane.

So, my friends - with all my heart, I miss you.

Courtney the Emotional

Throughout history, people would have adjectives suffixed to the end of their names.  For example, Peter the Great was a czar of Russia, Edmund the Just was a king of England.  These adjectives were used to describe the person.  I'm not all together sure how these suffixes came about, but I'm sure that some were self-given. So...

Hello Reader - my name is Courtney the Emotional.  This isn't new, I'm just stating the extremely obvious.  I was just reading the last few blog entries of a great friend of mine.  And in the middle of the coffee place, tears poured down my cheeks. 

If you were to ask anyone close to me, the word "emotional" would probably be in the top 3 words they would use to describe me.  It is my personal #1 choice.  I feel things deeply.  This quality creates both positive and negative effects. It is the basis for anger, apathy, distance, sadness, sensativity, empathy, love and compassion. 

It fuels my actions and reactions.  I cry over most things: children playing at the park, a homeless man on the corner, the commercial where the father and son are eating an oreo over webchat, abandoned worship of Jesus, the tears of my friends, some music and most chic-flick movies.  And the list could go on and on. 

Sometimes - I cry for no reason at all.  I could be riding in the car, looking out the window and small tears trickle down my face.  It's not something I will to happen, it just does.  Trying to stop it makes it worse, but if I don't - I am faced with questioning glances from those around, silently wondering what's wrong.  But there is no answer to give. 

When I hurt, I withdraw.  When others hurt, I want to draw in.  When my heart is broken, I am silent.  When the heart of a friend breaks, I long for them to share with me.  

Some think I'm weak, others think I'm strong.  Some think I'm afraid, others think I'm courageous.  Some don't know really what to do with me, others know exactly what to say or do.  Regardless of what is said or thought about me - You'll never get less than the genuine me - and I am EMOTIONAL.