The bumpy curve in the road, the lumpy curve of my hips, the curve of my smile, the sharp curve of my winged eyeliner. The Curve.
For me, the curve was something I had to learn to accept. And then to love.
I didn’t love the sharp curves and bumps in the road when my family was going through some really dark times a few years ago. I hated it. I hated every middle-of-the-night call I got from them telling me that we’d set off on yet another unexpected curve. I hated the heartache and the pain and the stress of it all.
But I can now see that, while those curves hurt and made the path much longer, they’ve really shaped our relationships with one another. Through faith and constant prayer, those curves were set straight and now, while we definitely don’t have it all together, my family is at a much better place than we were before. Because with every unexpected, hurtful, heartbreaking curve we took together, it showed us, or at least me, what it was like to have a heart of grace and forgiveness. It taught me what it was like to rely on the only One that matters. It humbled me by showing me what it felt like to be at the very bottom, looking up, grasping for any sign of hope.
The curve of me. The lumpy, bumpy, ever-changing curve of myself. Of my body. Ahhhhh a women’s journey to self-acceptance.
Again, this is a curve (or curves) I had to learn to accept. And then, through many tears, groans, pains and grace, I learned to love it. To really love it. This wasn’t something that happened over night. In 2015 I accepted the fact that I had gained weight in college (it is normal girls, and not always because of unhealthy habits – one word: HORMONES). I just lived in that grey area of acceptance for the next couple years. I had a lot of major changes in my life the following year. I was a newly wed, I had a husband who adored every perfect imperfection of me, and I was learning how to be fat and happy in my new life.
But is still didn’t love my body.
And then January 2nd, 2017 happened. Two little pink lines that, in an instant, taught me more about self-love than any book, seminar, or pep-talk out there. Realizing that you’re with child brings a whole new perspective to everything in your life. The thighs I once hated, were now strong, capable pillars for which to carry the growing weight of my body. My widening hips were now a gift, growing and strengthening to support my changing body. My soft, round stomach was now a life-giving vessel for this teeny tiny cluster of cells that didn’t even have to have a name or a face for me to love it unconditionally. My full, heavy breasts were now a means of sustaining life, of nurturing and comforting.
The things I once hated most about my body, were now the things I loved the most.
Even through the loss of this child, I never lost that love. And it only grew when I found out I was pregnant a second time. Now, almost 6 months pregnant, I love my growing curves. If it didn’t before, every part of my body has it’s own bold curve now. And I embrace them all.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it wasn’t until I embraced the curve that I found the calling. Sometimes the Lord has a very specific order for how He knows things need to play out in our lives. And He orchestrates it all so beautifully.
When we found out we lost our first baby, I quickly retreated into myself. I’ve always done this. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to be surrounded by supportive people. I want to be alone with my emotions to figure it out myself. In times of darkness, I internalize. And then I create.
Some of my most creative moments have come out of some of the darkest. I express myself best through art. And somehow, from all that pain, came a beautiful calling.
When I found my set of Faber Castell pens from a college art course, I had no idea what joy they’d restore in my life. I started drawing and teaching myself the art of hand lettering. For inspiration I’d turn to the Bible, looking for inspiring verses to recreate. The Lord knew I wasn’t going to pick up the Good Book in my time of grief, so it was through art that He lead me back to the Word that ultimately restored me. Funny how He works.
Once I started I couldn’t stop. I drew everything. I wrote every Bible verse and song lyric I could think of. I filled notebooks, notepads and scrap paper. I ran my pens dry, bought more, and kept on creating.
Through the painful curves, the Lord revealed to me my Calling. Create, Sara. Keep creating.
I’m not 100% sure where this calling will take me. I’m still creating and operating Printed With Grace, and doing that has made my heart so happy. But I believe my calling is in sharing this passion to create with others. Through teaching? Going back to school? I’m really not sure which direction this will take me yet, but I do know that I’m at least pointed in the right direction of my calling. And that’s a very peaceful and thrilling place to be.
Find your curves. Accept them. Love them. And your calling will come.
Thank you for letting me share my curves and callings with you ❤