Longings & Babette's Feast—Part 2

Through all the world there goes one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me a chance to do my best.

Isak Dinesen

When “Babette’s Feast” ended, most people rose and exited the theater. A few stayed to digest the film or read the credits, speaking in hushed tones. Eventually everyone left but me, too stunned to move or speak. Next to me, my friend fidgeted, wondering when I’d regain my senses.

How long did it take to finally stand and find words to explain what had pierced my heart? It felt like a call—but to what? Decades would pass before I understood the film’s impact, but I intuitively knew one thing. Babette’s cry was mine—an artist’s cry from the heart, “Give me a chance to do my best.”

Although I didn’t fully identify what nerve the film struck in me that day, I knew it related to creativity, fighting for a voice. I could no longer work at any job just to make a living. I needed to find work that gave voice to the creative gifts God had given me—a stewardship issue.

Circumstances stole Babette’s ability to exercise her gift as a culinary chef, but they didn’t steal her gift or passion. Babette picked weeds in the fields around her new home, testing for herbs she could use to jazz up the typical fare of dried fish and ale bread. In time the gift returned offering Babette a chance to do her best again. Was it because she was willing to pick weeds?

Circumstances had stolen my ability to exercise creative gifts too. And I had to reclaim them. But how? Was I to become a chef, like Babette? I didn’t even know how to cook! No, my gifts lie elsewhere, treasure hidden in another field. But where? (France, as it turned out.)

Babette’s Feast set me on a journey to seek the treasure. I scribbled in my journal and wrote poems on occasion but didn’t think seriously about publishing. And I had long ago abandoned painting and music. I needed income.

What are you longing for? What chance do you long for to do your best? And how do you define “best?”