Fight to Believe

Disclaimer: Yesterday, I said that this blog would now be a bit more personal, and that I would reserve fourhatspress.com to highlight my art. (If you haven't seen it yet, go on over and poke around. In the coming weeks and months, I hope to fill it out with lots of letterpressness.) That said, sometimes, the lines between personal and professional life blur together. Sometimes art comes from a deeply personal place. That is the case here. Allow me to explain.

Way back in October, this was the very first print to come off of my Vandercook printing press. After months of hoping for one of my own, after the joy of finally finding and moving one in, after months of scrubbing and waiting... my dreams came to fruition with the collaborative effort to produce the print you see pictured above. I'd be tempted to say that its content proved to be ironic if I didn't have a faith that believes (ever so feebly, now) that it all happened just the way God ordained for it to happen.

The quote originated from a note that "my valentine" received from the tooth fairy as a little boy. After loosing a tooth one day, he snuck it under his pillow without telling his parents only to wake up to a tooth under his pillow. He was disappointed, and challenged his parents about the myth of the money-awarding fairy. They encouraged him to try again. The next night, he did, and woke to find his reward along with a note (scribbled in his dad's handwriting).

Always believe in the mystery and magic of life and love.

You see, the reason I didn't show this print until now is that it was a Christmas gift for his dad. The story has always meant a lot to the two of them -- a reminder that there is reason to believe despite circumstance. There can be hope in the unseen even when we have cause to doubt. Just days after my old valentine and I printed this together for his dad, we broke up.

It has been a heart wrenching few months. I've tossed, turned, and cried more tears than I thought possible. I've questioned God; I'll venture to say I've even been a tad self-destructive, putting myself in hurt-inflicting situations that I've been too weak to handle. I've shaken fists at the sky and then picked myself up and tried to fix things on my own. I've tried. I've failed. I've felt hopeless and helpless. I've resisted the advice of friends, I've prayed against all odds for the wrong things. My first experience with heartbreak has been nothing short of completely devastating.

But, in the end, I know it was only because my first experience with love was rich. The last two years were some of the most joyous of my life. Because of him, I travelled to London and Paris. With his support, I gained the confidence to move forward with the dreams for four hats. I learned patience, and invested in my interests while I waited anxiously for his return to American soil. When he did, I had a best friend to share life with, to eat dinner with, to laugh uncontrollably with. And it was wonderful. I'm thankful for him and prayerful for his success as he moves on from here to follow a calling towards new adventures.

But, I am broken.

And it's going to take time and supernatural strength to heal me.

I don't feel like believing in love right now. But, I have to tell myself the truth. I have to push past unbelief. I have to trust in a God that doesn't open doors just to harshly shut them in my face. He wants to illuminate something about Himself to me. And against what I feel, I have to believe that even now.