|
|
|
I love the artistry of hand painted matryoshka dolls — and I like the visual reminder that we all have stories to tell just beneath the outer surface.
Most of my Russian nesting dolls show women in beautiful aprons, and others display Russian cities. But my favorite in my small collection shows a series of religious icons, starting with Mary and baby Jesus. The last time I opened that set up to display all five of the icons, I paused when I got to the one that showed Jesus as an adult. I admired the gilded halo and the soft eyes, but just as I started to set it down, I noticed the empty shell of the larger doll.
To make room for Jesus, the shell had to be emptied. The wood had to be carved and shaped and then, ever so carefully, crafted to fit back together.
Is it really so different for us?
How do we make room to recognize God as part of our story?
About Marketta Gregory
I never meant to be a columnist. I trained to be a newspaper reporter -- one who tried to her best to be objective. I covered religion for a few years and felt like it was the best job a curious woman like me could ever have. Every day I got to listen as people told me about the things that were most important to them, the things that were sacred. But the newspaper industry was changing and few papers could afford to have an army of speciality reporters. So, I moved to cover the suburbs where, as luck would have it, they have plenty of religion, too.
Eventually, children came into the picture. One by birth and another two months later by foster care/adoption. I struggled to chase breaking news and be home at a decent hour, so I made the move to what we journalists call the dark side: I took a job in public relations. (Don¹t worry. I work for a great non-profit, so it¹s not dark at all.)
When I gave my notice at the Rochester (N.Y.) Democrat and Chronicle, the executive editor asked me to consider writing a column on a freelance basis. She didn¹t want the newspaper to lose touch with its religious sources, and she still wanted consistent faith coverage. I was terrified. It took me about 10 months to get back to her with a solid plan and some sample columns.
And so it began, this journey of opening up my heart to strangers.
