My hands are toward the end of their slow process of ceasing to function, and I am going through a process of “letting go;” not just physically but with my whole being. One thing that is, surprisingly, requiring a bit more detachment than I  expected is the ability to make art.

I am not, nor will I ever be, an amazing artist. More of a passable artist, I always enjoyed painting, drawing and crafting in its various forms. On a recent road trip, I looked out the window, marveling at the trees’ many shades of green and the soft but also pointed tips of the pine needles’ new growth and thinking on how I would paint them… and then reminding myself that, no, I won’t paint them. The fact that I can’t paint them can’t detract from their beauty, though. Perhaps I can’t create, re-create, or copy the beauty I see, but I can still appreciate it. It is still beauty, even if I have changed.

This and many similar experiences make up the daily ways Our Lord has recently been inviting me to let go of everything and just hold onto Him. In fact, it goes further. Recently, His reminder has become, “If you can’t hold on, just remember that I’m holding you.”

A friend gave me a book a few years ago called It’s Good to be Here by Christina Chase. Born with a physical disability that slowly but progressively worsens and for which there is no cure, Christina is a Catholic author who reflects on the sacredness of being human. I have come to greatly appreciate her reflections. Though we’ve never met or spoken, she is my friend in much the same way that you and I are friends, even though we may have never met. I can say that, through her writing, I understood a piece of my soul a bit better.

In my journey of contemplation on giving priority to “being” over “doing,” I constantly turned to life’s realities that require acceptance of just that: the elderly, the handicapped, the poor. These lives are of equal importance to the Lord, and their lives have value not because of what they do but because of who they are: God’s good creatures. These realities help me remember that, even when I am completely unable to do anything, I am still His, and He does great things through me when I give myself to Him — greater things than I could ever do on my own, even if I were an amazing artist. “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:10).

Your Friend in Christ, 

Nicole Buchholz

(Nicole continues to offer her struggles with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease, to God.)