GOD DELIGHTS IN MY FEELINGS
Rev. Paul Wachdorf
The summer before last, I went on an eight day directed retreat at the Jesuit
Renewal Center in Milford, Ohio. In the opening conference with my director, I talked
about my desires for the retreat. Based on what I had shared, he suggested that it
would be helpful if I included some creative, right-brain experiences as part of my
spiritual exercises. In particular, he suggested working with the art materials that the
retreat center made available to the retreatants.
I felt an immediate and strong resistance to his suggestion. I told him why. When
I was in third grade, my teacher gave me a "U" (unsatisfactory) in art. It was the first "U"
I had ever received on a report card. I can still remember how upset I was and the
feelings of shame which I experienced. I had failed. Although my parents were very
understanding, I can remember fearing that they would be disappointed or angry with
me.
The impact of that incident in my life has been long lasting. Ever since then, I
have felt a strong, irrational aversion to anything that had to do with drawing or artistic
expression. I have always appreciated art as an observer. I have been a member of the
Art Institute of Chicago for many years. I collected art books and studied the history of
art. However, whenever someone asked me to draw something or to use art materials, I
felt fear and shame. I would get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I avoided
playing "Pictionary" with my friends. If I could not avoid having to draw, I would try to
hide my feelings by joking that I had majored in stick figures when I was in college.
When my director suggested some creative, right-brain work, I realized that my
intense negative feelings about art pointed to many larger and important life issues. Out
of that early childhood experience, I had linked, at least partially, my sense of self worth
with my ability to draw or to express myself artistically. I was afraid of appearing foolish.
I was afraid that someone would laugh at me or ridicule my artwork. I was afraid of
being judged a failure, not just as an artist but as a human being. I was aware of my
fear of not being in control, and art was something I could not control. I was in touch
with my perfectionism and my need to be competent. I was aware of how often I get
focused on proving my worth and value to people by being competent, and art was an
area in which I felt incompetent. His suggestion also put me in touch with the fear and
shame I felt when I was in third grade.
I shared these feelings with my director, thinking that he would suggest other
spiritual exercises for me. He was not so cooperative. He felt that on this retreat, I
should explore the feelings that surfaced from his suggestion. It was important for me to
face my fear and my shame surrounding art.
He made three suggestions. He said it would be helpful if I used the available art
materials to draw the feelings I experienced back in third grade. He suggested that I
bring these feelings into prayer and that I face them with God. He also suggested that I
attend an optional retreat session on art and prayer. In this session, an artist came one
evening to make a presentation about art, prayer, and spirituality.
When I left my director that morning, I was angry with him about what he
suggested that I do. I was afraid of facing into the feelings associated with art and
drawing. This was not what I had in mind when I signed up for this retreat. I wanted a
more pleasant, loving, and gentle retreat experience.
I also realized that the strength of my resistance was telling me that this was an
area of my life that I needed to explore. I went through an interior struggle. I brought my
anger and fear to God. Although I felt much inner resistance, I also sensed that healing
and insight would come from this. With a great deal of reluctance and hesitation, I
finally decided to do what my director had suggested to me.
For most of that day, I avoided the art room. That night I finally broke through my
resistance. I got paper and chalk pastels. I began to draw using my non dominant hand.
I chose different colors for different feelings - red, yellow, orange, purple, brown, and
black. I put down on paper my shame, fear, anger, sadness, and confusion. I drew my
powerlessness and my feelings of being out of control. What I created was a jumble of
colors and lines. It looked like a child's drawing. I wrote in my journal that night: "I have
just drawn, but I do not know what I have drawn or what it means." I went to bed that
night without a clear sense of what I had created.
The next morning I met with my director. I brought my drawing with me. I felt
very uncomfortable showing it to him. I feared that he would laugh at it or judge it and
me. His reaction was not what I expected. He accepted it just the way it was. He invited
me to talk about what it meant and how I felt about it.
As we talked, I recalled an incident from my childhood. I was in a craft class. One
day I brought home for my parents an ash tray that I had made for them. I was excited
about it and proud of it. In reality, it was awful looking. In addition, neither of my parents
smoked. Yet, I remembered how delighted they were with it and with me. It did not
make any difference to them what it looked like. All that mattered was that I had created
this gift out of love for them. As I recalled this incident, I had an image of how delighted
God was with my drawing and with me.
My director asked me to spend time contemplating my drawing. He invited me to
bring to God in prayer all the feelings I had expressed in my drawing. He suggested that
I ask God to share with me in greater depth how God felt about what I had created.
Later that day, I spent time looking at my multi-colored drawing. I became aware
of its beauty. It was an explosion of color. What I had drawn was expressive and
passionate. As I contemplated it, I realized that in many ways, I have lived a flat, twodimensional, black and white life. I sensed that when I was in touch with and expressive
of the full range of my feelings, I lived my life in three dimensions and with rich colors. I
realized that my feelings, including those I felt were negative and unacceptable, are part
of my passion. They are what make me beautiful, fully human, and alive. I sensed that
God was not only delighted with my drawing but that God was also delighted with all the
feelings I had expressed in my drawing. At an even deeper level, I felt that God was
delighted with me just the way I was.
That evening, I went to the optional session on art, prayer, and spirituality. The
artist talked about how art could be an expression of prayer. She offered some helpful
hints about how we might use art materials as an entryway into prayer. At the end of
her presentation, she invited us to draw or to work with clay. She encouraged us to let
the Spirit guide our efforts and to break away from our need to create something
recognizable or worthwhile.
I was drawn to work with clay. I took a large handful of clay. I formed it into a ball.
I closed my eyes and rolled it around in my hands. I began to squeeze the clay in my
hands. I dug my fingers and thumbs into it. I tried to imprint into the clay all of the
feelings that I had tried to put into my drawing the day before. My hands hurt and my
arms trembled from the exertion. Then I relaxed my hands.
I looked at what I had created. The clay had received the imprint of my hands.
The part of the clay that was in contact with the palms of my hands formed a crude
image of a face. It was featureless and expressionless. On the other side, I could see
my fingerprints deeply embedded in the clay.
As I looked at it, I realized that it was an image of me. One side showed the
controlled, blank face that I have often presented to the world. The other side
expressed all the feelings I have kept bottled up inside me. This side had character,
individuality, and uniqueness. It was vibrant and passionate.
I set it down with the blank side facing up. It looked like a turtle with its head and
legs drawn up inside its shell. I could also identify with this image. There have been
times when I have lived my life in fearful and protective ways, withdrawn and isolated,
out of touch with myself and my feelings.
The artist told us we could keep what we had created. I decided to recycle it and
put it back into the pot of clay. I felt embarrassed by it. I didn't want anyone else to see
it. What I saw in it made me feel uncomfortable. Yet later that evening, I regretted doing
this. I realized that I needed to recreate it and to befriend it and all that it stood for.
The next morning, I told my director about the evening session. He agreed with
my inclination to recreate my clay figure. He again encouraged me to bring my clay
figure to God in prayer and to ask God how God felt about it.
Later that day, I recreated my "work of art." As I looked at it, I wrote in my
journal: "God, can it be that you love me when I am passionate? Do you love even my
dark and unacceptable feelings?" Again, I experienced the presence of God. I felt God's
love for the blank face I have presented to the world. But even more than that, I felt
God's delight with my passion.
The next day I showed my clay figure to my director. He reflected that the blank
face will receive its expression from the inside out. As the feelings represented by my
fingerprints push themselves outward, they will transform my blank face into one that is
full of passion, enthusiasm, and life.
He also shared that the clay freely received all of my feelings. My anger,
frustration, fear, and shame did not destroy or harm the clay. In a similar way, God is
willing to receive all of my feelings, no matter what they are. God will not be destroyed
by them. God loves my passionate feelings. When I express all my feelings to God, I
become more real to myself and to God. I open a door that allows me to know,
experience, and engage God in deeper and more intimate ways.
Later in the retreat, strong feelings of anger surfaced within me related to
different experiences and situations in my life. Anger has always been the most difficult
emotion for me to feel, acknowledge, or express. I wrote in my journal: "God, do you
think this anger I am now feeling is beautiful? Do you love my anger? Do you love me
when I am angry?" Again, I felt God reassuring me that all my feelings, even my anger,
were beautiful and acceptable.
For the rest of the retreat, I continued to get in touch with a variety of feelings
related to my life experiences. I shared them with God and with my director. By the end
of the retreat, I felt alive and passionate. For a time, I removed my faceless mask and
revealed my true face. I discovered, much to my surprise, that this face was a delight to
God, to myself, and to my director.
Since that retreat, I continue to struggle with befriending and expressing all of
my feelings. In moments of fear, I retreat back to my blank, protective face. I know that
this will be one of my growing edges for the rest of my life. Yet I also know that I am not
stuck with this face. I now have the freedom to present to the world a face that is more
alive and real.
I am grateful to God for the gift of my director. He helped me to face not only my
fear and shame around art but also my capacity to be a feeling person. I realize that my
ability to express all of my feelings honestly is what makes me capable of true intimacy
with God, with myself, and with other people.
The retreat was a gift to me in yet another way. I recently went out and bought
canvasses, oil paints, brushes, an easel, and other art supplies. I asked an artist whom
I know to teach me the basics of oil painting. Recently, I completed my second oil
painting - - a self-portrait. I am not ready to exhibit my artwork in a gallery, but I am not
ashamed of what I have painted. I am even looking forward to playing "Pictionary." I do
not want to become a skilled artist. I paint for my own satisfaction and enjoyment. I find
painting to be a wonderful form of self-expression. And it has been an experience of
prayer.
I will always remember this directed retreat. My life will never be the same again.
I am learning how to paint, and I am learning how to feel - - two things I feared, fought,
and avoided most of my life. And best of all, as I am learning how to express all of my
feelings honestly to God in prayer, I am developing a deeper and more intimate
relationship with God. I know in my heart that God delights in me and in my feelings.
After all these years, I am beginning to understand that I am God's work of art.
Originally published in Praying, 115 East Armour Boulevard, P.O Box 419335, Kansas
City, MO, 64111- 0335, March – April, 1994, No. 59, pp. 38-41.