WHY 'THE MIGHTY VELVET'?
“Hello! Happy New Year! See ya later 2020!” — and so goes the song that I wrote with my 4 year old son & 11 month old daughter on NYE 2020. We’ve been singing it around our house with our tambourines & drums and have genuinely welcomed the new year with open arms, haha.. a bit of fun, a bit of truth. 2020—am I riiight? The most notable year for plot twists in modern history. None of us saw it coming. “The Mighty Velvet” emerged from a not-too-different season in my personal life, the starting line marked by very challenging and unresolved circumstances that left me grappling for beauty and truth. Of course, at the time I didn’t perceive this personal plot twist as the beginning of something beautiful, but rarely can one imagine the fruit to come of a dream that’s been buried, like a seed in the ground, surrendered to the unseen. This project is a continual story of just that—the collision of grit and grace, God’s strength made perfect in weakness. There’s simply something to be recognised and celebrated when one, having done all to stand, still stands. Of the one who, against all hope, in Hope still believes.
Like all good stories, this one has a distinct starting line, so we must rewind back to 2016 when I had just given birth to my first child (my son who writes NYE hits in his spare time). While motherhood was and is genuinely one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, it’s also been one of the hardest. I had only ever heard about the joy, the fulfillment and the beauty (which are absolutely true), but no one ever told me about the reality of letting go of everything you’ve ever known—releasing every strand of your identity—to embrace the newest, most profound season of becoming a mother. Up to that point in my life, I felt like I had done a pretty great job of establishing my identity in a healthy way. Motherhood was the curveball, in all of its unpredictable and selfless glory, that made it brazenly clear I had placed my identity more in my doing than in my being. Because when what I did changed (and there was oh-so-much change in this new season) so did my confidence in who I was.
I’m a creative to a fault, and it’s just one of those things that’s always made me me. I suppose that’s why I was in for such a shock when this part of my identity began to transform into something new alongside this new time in my life. I love the arts, and I particularly love to sing, which has been one of the ways I’ve served in the creative team at my church for over a decade. (I count it a genuine privilege to even say that because God is ridiculously kind in giving us gifts and then entrusting us to use them for Him.) Once I had my son, I simply thought I’d go back to my normal level of involvement within our team—I mean, these were my people, and this was my place. Me, me, me. And I wasn’t just dawdling around, I was so expectant for when I’d be ready to come back and serve with what I love doing most. So when things didn’t play out according to my assumptions and plan, and the opportunities I once had were no longer available, I very much took it as a personal hit of rejection. As much as I searched for answers as to why I was no longer able to serve in this capacity, I wasn’t given any. And as much as I’d like to say I was strong and my mind didn’t wander to the worst, I must admit that my mind immediately went to the worst. I began to question my value to the team. Began to question my gifts. Began to wonder why I was even given them in the first place if I no longer had an outlet for them. Began to feel not good enough. I made it all about me, and I hadn’t the heart to imagine that God could possibly bring something good, nay something better, from the rejection I felt. If God was doing a new thing, why did it hurt so bad? Why did I feel so lost and alone?
You never really expect to be adrift in the unknown.. it has a way of sneaking up on you unexpectedly. And when you’re drifting in the uncharted, it’s easy to spend all of your energy searching for a lifeline, for something familiar to hold onto. I was desperate for an explanation for why things happened the way they did—connect the dots, have some resolve & move on. It was also a bit of a self-defense mechanism on my part to try and pick myself up, dust myself off & think I’m completely fine even though there was a gaping wound in my heart. Thankfully, God knew that and wouldn’t allow me to put a bandaid on something that needed to surrender to the care of His hand. I needed heart surgery. I needed Him to pull out the weeds that had grown over time and were choking the true lifeline of my relationship with Him so that new, beautiful and noble things of truth could grow.
In all of my questioning and wondering, I came to a halting realisation that over time I had placed my value in what I did. In my working, in my singing, in my getting to use my gifts, in my getting to be involved in ______, in my getting chosen to be part of _______. I had fallen prey to a trap that many creatives fall into: making their creativity about themselves (which can get tricky, given that creativity comes from within you, but more about that another day, ha!). My creativity was never meant to revolve around me or the affection of other humans. It was always a gift from God, to be stewarded and grown in beauty, and in worship, given back to Him. When your identity is wrapped up in what you do or in your creative gifting, you don’t necessarily understand how much you’ve made your God-given gift about yourself or how you’ve made an idol out of opportunity until those opportunities are gone. What I saw as a door shut in rejection was actually God’s kindness in getting me alone with Him—a desert of sorts and an intense season of pruning.
That’s where all the grappling for safety in the storm actually led to a great unraveling for me, a great surrender, and it was the beginning of one of the most profound lessons God has ever taught me. In His kindness, God removed the worthless treasure I had placed my value and identity in so that I might finally understand that what I do will come and go, but who He has made me to be in Him will always be the most valuable part of what it means to be me.
And so, alas, that brings me to the WHY.
Why ‘The Mighty Velvet’?
I will never forget the day that God spoke those words to me. I had just pulled into my driveway & shut the car door when I felt God whisper, “Mighty Velvet”. And I stopped in my tracks, probably with a very confused look on my face, but I dared not take another step because when He said it, it gripped my soul and made my stomach drop all at the same time. Then, He said it again. “Mighty Velvet”. So I grabbed a pen and wrote the words on the palm of my hand. In an instant He seemed to gently hold my fragile heart as He told me how I was never forgotten. All the times I had mistaken His silence for rejection were when He was closest to me, holding my brokenness, drifting with me in these mysterious new waters. All the comparing, all of the tears, all of the feeling like my voice wasn’t good enough, like I wasn’t good enough—He was with me through it all. My voice was mighty because He made it to sound like it does, on purpose. He gave me my gifts on purpose. No lack of opportunity changed that, just like no additional opportunity could add to my value. None of it was a mistake, and none of it was about me or my lack. It was all always meant to point me back to Him. I had the grit to hang on, but it was only Grace that got me through.
And I know I’m not the only one. All of us have things we go through in life that no one else knows but God. And this year may have been your year. Things that have battled for your joy, your peace, your dreams & your future. We all need grit so that the waves of life don’t take us out. But grit alone can only get us so far. Only the grace of God can sustain us. Only grace can infuse us with hope and fill us with truth. And in the midst of all the uncertainty, in the moments where you feel pressure on every side like life’s forcing a tailor-made straight jacket on you, His GRACE not only keeps you going, but it brings calm from the chaos, peace from despair, joy in the midst of heartache, and new life from the ashes. The kind of life that you’ve been searching for.. and what once limited you has now become your accelerant to the life you’ve been waiting to live. It’s as if the obstacle has become the opportunity. Grit will help you hurdle an obstacle, but only Grace can bring beauty and life from what is barren. We need the divine partnership of both in order to be who God has called us to be and to do what He’s called us to do, which incidentally, is most often where our dreams are found.