Once again I welcome the wisdom of Deanna Brown as she expounds on how the creative process brings healing to our brokenness. This is a subject she understands by experience. You can read part one, here, if you missed it!
“Wounds. By his wounds we are healed. But they are our wounds, too, and until we have been healed we do not know what wholeness is. The discipline of creation, be it paint, compose, write, is an effort toward wholeness.
“. . . How many artists, in the eyes of the world, have been less than whole? Toulouse-Lautrec had the body of a man and the legs of a child. Byron had a clubfoot. Demosthenes was a terrible stutterer. Traditionally, Homer was blind. The great artists have gained their wholeness through their wounds, their epilepsies, tuberculoses, periods of madness.” Madeleine L’Engle Walking on Water
In my previous post, I explored the fact that we learn through painful experiences. I promised this time to discuss how pain and suffering can catalyze us to creative endeavors. ML’E chooses the greatest of example to help us explore this subject – the life of Jesus Christ. That statement, “By His wounds we are healed,” is from the 53rd chapter of Isaiah. I am greatly tempted to spend time expounding on all that is encompassed in these words. It has been a source of rich meditation for me these past weeks to think what my Savior suffered both in his physical body and in his spirit to secure my salvation. Here is where true wholeness is found.
But I know that if I go down that road I will be scrambling in the last paragraph to fulfill my promise. Instead I will focus my thoughts on the second part of that paragraph in which ML’E states that the discipline of creation is an effort toward wholeness. What a paradox these words reflect! What deep mysteries are revealed in the wholeness of spirit that sometimes comes through the brokenness of body and mind! How are we to make sense of this? The very thing that would make us unfit for society gives birth to the most exquisite artistic expression.
A few weeks ago I watched a video of a man who resides in a nursing home having battled cerebral palsy his entire life. The muscles of his arms have contracted to a point that he has very little range of motion. To employ his hands in even the most simple of tasks takes a tremendous amount of mental and physical ardor. Surely this man has lived a wretched life through which no good could possibly come, no? No. Through the most painstaking effort, he punches away at two or three keys of an old typewriter. To the casual observer this must appear to be a man of little wit entertaining him self by the sound of the tap…tap…tap that is made as his shaking finger punches the key. On the contrary, this is the sound of an artist who is patiently creating a landscape out of carefully placed #’s and +’s. This kind of a story often goes “viral” on the Internet. We all stare in amazement that a man with so many odds against him has refused to be defeated by life. These are the stories we love. They are the ones that inspire.
I am drawn to these stories, because they give witness to the fact that there is more to a person than a physical body. We are created in the image of a Triune God, which means much more than I can truly comprehend. I think there are a few things I do 
understand, at least in part. We are made with body, mind, and soul. These parts of us work in unison in ways of which we have very little understanding. We are made with an appreciation for beauty in creation and in creating. We have the capacity to reason and improve upon ourselves. All these characteristics are essence of our Creator’s image. We know that when a person loses one of his senses, the other senses can become more acute. Just as the body compensates for the part that is disabled, so the soul and the mind have a way of compensating for losses in physical strength.
While we are physically whole, we are often distracted into thinking our bodies are the only concern we have. But those who have experienced disabling illness or injury are forced to consider the part of their being that is not corporeal. The adversity tends to bring the spirit to the forefront, but, again, not always.
I am reminded of a movie that came out a few years back where a woman boxer sustained an injury that left her paralyzed (Million Dollar Baby). This woman never moved past the horror of her predicament to find some other kind of expression. She chose, instead, to be put to death by her friends who sympathized with the tragic loss she had suffered. This movie evoked an intense distaste in me. It’s not that I did not comprehend the utter hopelessness such a loss of control would bring to a young, athletic woman. It is not that I did not understand the constant battle with bedsores, the pain and boredom and the loss of usefulness. I understood all these things. But the message of the movie was that our physical bodies are all there is to this life.
Tell that to Joni Eareckson Tada, who suffered a very similar injury due to a diving accident at 17. Joni learned to paint holding a brush between her teeth. She has written dozens of books. She taught herself to sing, in spite of the fact that she has no use of her diaphragm. She married. She speaks at conferences and has her own radio program.
I am not sure I know what makes the difference between the boxer and the diver. I have an idea that it has more to do with being whole than pursuing wholeness. I would like to tritely say the difference is a spiritual one, and to a great extent that is true. Joni’s life is driven by her dependence on a Sovereign God. She trusts that He will use her life on this earth until He is done, and then will take her home to Glory where she will be given a new body. The woman in the movie could not see past her need to escape the horrors of this world. Her world-view did not allow for rising above her circumstances.
But it is not that simple. There are some who believe in God who lose heart and are simply waiting to leave this world. There are some who have no love of God who somehow look past their limitations and find a way to fly. I don’t know what makes the difference, but I know which one I want to be. I want to be the one who manages to bring beauty into the world in spite of the limitations of my circumstances. I want to find ways to conquer the obstacles and refuse to be defeated. I want to be one whose spirit is tenacious and resilient.
So here I am at the end wondering to myself, “Did I really address the question of seeking wholeness through creativity?” I cannot give you a formula to take you past the suffering to the art. I think it has to do with a belief that a person is more than the sum of her parts. It has to do with the rejection of man’s value being only as good as the vessel that holds the soul.
What of you, dear reader? Will you be one who pushes past the impediments of your body? Will you look for ways to bring the richness of spirit to the poverty of life? Let us agree to live this day communicating to the world, “I am more than what you see with your eyes.”
I had a conversation once about the beauty of God’s creation. The argument was made that perhaps it is difficult to see the beauty of creation for one who lives in the squalor of war-torn Sudan. It is true that there are great obstacles to seeing or creating beauty in a land where starvation and murder and wounds to the body and spirit are so prevalent. But the Milky Way shines brightest over Sudan for those who have the courage look up. May the God of Creation help us to lift our eyes.
Deanna Brown grew up in East Africa as the daughter of Southern Baptist missionaries. She has a BSW (Bachelor of Social Work) from University of North Texas. After a very short career as a medical social worker, she married and became a stay at home mom. She home schooled the three youngest of her five children, one of which struggles with a chronic illness. When she was not quite 
finished home schooling, her husband had a massive stroke, which left him severely debilitated. For the past three and a half years she has been a full-time caregiver.
When Deanna was young, she had a love for writing and dreamed of some day being published. This dream was mostly forgotten in the midst of responsibilities of wife, mom, and teacher. However, as she struggled to cope with the difficulties of caring for her husband, she found refuge in the keys of her laptop. Thus was born her blog, www.strokemanswoman.wordpress.com. There she types away her grief, her struggles and her consolation in the Triune God. Occasionally she also writes of the many happy memories of her childhood and her children – especially the ones that made her laugh.
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Thankful once again to be a guest on Heather’s blog. Here is part two of two.