I was thinking about how the Lord shapes our lives, crafting His kids' experiences to point us in one direction or another or to help us grow straight and true. I found myself musing over how that process is His creative act, with my life and that of everyone I interact with as His medium. I know it's an imperfect metaphor, but stay with me.
There are times when I sense God's hand shaping me and very often it feels like a God-sized chisel and mallet swinging down to form my character, my family and church, and all my surroundings. But I recognize that this simply cannot be the swing of His arm crashing down on my life or I'd be utterly destroyed.
As I mused on, it became clear to me that the hammer blows are really just the gentle swish of His paintbrush toning my life, repainting certain bits, adding a new layer of color, touching up a detail here and there. Why would I not be delighted to bathe in lavender, be covered with green or awash in orange? Up close they only seem to be blobs of colored pigment, but to an artist they form a picture to express the heart.
When I think of myself as a block of stone being hammered and chiseled and sanded and smoothed, I tense up, awaiting the next blow, but when I picture God as the Artist repainting my life, I find it easier to trust Him.
"He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end." Ecclesiastes 3:11