The Cry of the Artist

(Note: this post has been bubbling around in my head for a week or so now, so even though I'm technically posting it after the above, in terms of thinking it preceeds the other events of the week).

In the midst of all the transitions of the past week - the hyper-speed move, garage sale, visit to Minnesota - I have been trying to sort out an answer to the question of, "aren't you excited!?" I would love to be able to answer this with an unequivocal, "Yes!", but my feelings lately have been a bit more complicated than that. While there are the normal feelings associated with saying goodbyes (hate those), there is a tiny bit of nervous wondering in the pit of my stomach when I think about this next year.

Thinking about the work and the committment that is about to be required of me, I remembered a line from one of my favorite movies, Babette's Feast. The film takes place within a tight-knit religious community in 19th century Denmark - they are very dour Protestants - and a somewhat mysterious woman moves in. Late in the story, it is discovered that this woman has won a large sum of money from the French lottery, which she asks to spend on one elaborate dinner for the entire community.

It turns out that this woman, Babette, is a famous and amazing French chef, and she pours her entire winnings into creating this one perfect, transcendant meal. When the night is over, her money is gone and instead of using it to start a new life for herself, she knows she will never leave the town she's now in. When someone asks Babette why she has chosen to spend her money and her efforts in this way, she answers that, "it is the cry of every artist - give me the chance to do my very best." She doesn't regret that she has given everything she has to this one meal because it represents the best that is in her.

I believe Babette's cry should be the same as that of every disciple. My heart knows that this upcoming year is a chance for me to do my very best - I hear God whispering to me that He has made me for this, and this is my chance to give everything I've got within me.

What is so scary about this prospect is how utterly exhausting such endeavors can become if I try to do it through my own stregnth. Babette did what she did out of love, not out of duty or requirement. As long as I am serving out of love, my energy and strength will not come from myself alone. I know God is asking for the best of me, and I do not want to be afraid to give it.