Beauty emerging from nothing

by Maggie Holman

The phrase, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” never meant much to me. Growing up in an extended family of photographers, I had it drilled into me. So instead of taking photographs, I chose to express myself in an eight-by-twelve, spiral-bound, $3 dollar notebook from Walmart.

A notebook, a song, abook of life

Now tattered and torn from being in the rain, lost in numerous church buildings and stuffed in the back of drawers, this notebook holds the stories of my life, from the time I was 14 to this very moment. It isn’t a diary with dates and hourly entries, but it holds something more valuable than any such chronicle: It contains my songs.

Like many 14-year-old girls, I desperately wanted to date. Unfortunately, after much pleading and weeping, my parents still said, “No.”

I did not rebel. Instead, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a napkin and a pink sharpie and wrote a song titled, “Fairytale.” The next day my mother read the words on the napkin, drove me to Walmart and bought me a notebook.

Week by week the lined pages filled with shallow lyrics for piano: songs about my experience (or inexperience) and the stories of my friends. I did eventually date a guy or two, so some of the pages acquired a sprinkling of tear stains. As the number of songs increased, my friends and family began to ask for mini-concerts. I played some of the songs countless times, and others I never turned to.

Getting serious

On the night of my 17th birthday, I attended an event designed to raise awareness of human trafficking. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that while I had been writing about boys and insecurities, children were dying. The innocent victims trapped in cages were dying due to the dangers of sex trafficking.

An hour after the conference, I sat on my bathroom floor with the old notebook pleading that God would use me as a vessel to establish His kingdom on earth. I realized that my notebook had been used for my own selfish satisfaction.

The purpose of the gift for writing should be to glorify my Creator. That night I sat trembling as Christ gave me the lyrics to my first song centered not on myself, but on the oppressed who God calls us to rescue. From that moment on, my notebook took on a new purpose.

My Walmart notebook is hardly in perfect condition, but its battle scars are what make it precious. It has stuck by my side through everything, and it is a most prized possession. Inside are words of hope and desperation, words of meaning and purpose.

By carrying the ragged notebook with me, I can share the beauty of what Christ has done. He has taken an $3 notebook and redeemed it, transforming it into something of immeasurable value. This is what Christ does, even with people, even with songwriters like me.