Faith Journey

"Bloom where you are planted."

2011-10-28T18:18:00.001-06:00


Poppies, gouache, 8x10"

All my life I've heard the saying, "bloom where you are planted," but today as I was taking my walk I started meditating on it. I think it's misleading...

Maybe my take on it is wrong, but when I hear it I assume that I should be content where I am, and that I should also, well, bloom. Even if I'm in the shade I should be bearing flowers or fruit. Even if it's cold and wintry, as a happy little plant I could make things better and bear some fruit. Even if I'm planted in the desert in very dry conditions, I should be blooming, assuming I'm doing this all correctly.

Isn't that what you think when you hear it? I know--I should simply accept my unchangeable surroundings and make the best of them. Accept the inevitable and make do. Find the good aspects of the situation and bear a little fruit...

It seems to presume that I can and should bloom despite where I am.

But I can't always.

My point is, "bloom where you are planted" implies that I can make myself bloom. Have you ever seen a plant that could do that? I'm picturing a strawberry trying to push out a flower, knowing that she will bear a sweet little bit of fruit. Does she concentrate? Try to spread out her leaves and gather more sunshine? Wiggle her roots deeper into the soil? I know, maybe she pushes and grunts and tries to think fruity thoughts. Ever seen a strawberry transplanting herself? Does she yell at the gardener, asking for more fertilizer?

Blooming doesn't require her to change her mind and accept things or become resigned to them. No, she simply lives.

Let's face it, if it isn't the right season or she doesn't have the correct growing conditions, she is not going to bring forth a flower or fruit. All the striving in the world won't make a blossom bud if it's not the right time.

No, that only happens when it's time for her to blossom.

Either she will or she won't bloom because of the kind of plant she is, the place she is now growing and the conditions God allows in her life--the sunshine and rain, erosion or pests.That's totally up to the Lord and His intentions for her.

So I think it might be better for me to think of it this way. Instead of "bloom where you are planted," maybe it should be "you'll bloom in season."

I'm not to strive to blossom. Blossoming is not my job, it's what results from what God has made me to be.

I pray that He will allow me to bear fruit for His kingdom, in His time, in His way, and in His perfect will. Without striving, I hope to see how this unfolds in my life seasonally. His will be done. Amen.

"For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them." Ephesians 2:10

A Day of Heart Lessons

2011-08-16T13:19:00.005-06:00

Heart lessons can be so challenging! I seem to be able to absorb lessons in my mind so much more easily than into my heart.

These pearls, for instance. Someone stole them, along with the whole box of jewelry.

I know these verses and I believe them.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

I know this parable.

“Behold, the sower went out to sow; and as he sowed, some seeds fell beside the road, and the birds came and ate them up. Others fell on the rocky places, where they did not have much soil; and immediately they sprang up, because they had no depth of soil. But when the sun had risen, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away. Others fell among the thorns, and the thorns came up and choked them out. And others fell on the good soil and yielded a crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty."

And I know its explanation.

"When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what has been sown in his heart. This is the one on whom seed was sown beside the road. The one on whom seed was sown on the rocky places, this is the man who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no firm root in himself, but is only temporary, and when affliction or persecution arises because of the word, immediately he falls away. And the one on whom seed was sown among the thorns, this is the man who hears the word, and the worry of the world and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful And the one on whom seed was sown on the good soil, this is the man who hears the word and understands it; who indeed bears fruit and brings forth, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty.”

I know those verses. So why has it taken until today for things to reach my heart?

Heart lessons are more than just knowing the lesson. They convict me of sin and show me the path I must take, not merely fitting into my mind like a puzzle piece. They change me.

Heart lessons are often hard lessons.

Take this one. I had a box full of treasure tucked away doing nothing of eternal value. Until my treasure was stolen by a thief, I was blissfully unthinking, merely assuming it was mine because it was there. But the day after the break-in and theft, as I mourned the loss of the value of the collection, particularly some items with sentimental meaning, it was as if my heavenly Father whispered to me, "Daughter, I have need of MY jewelry elsewhere."

I started thinking about the "deceitfulness of wealth." I have been deceived. I thought the jewelry was 'mine', even as I said everything I had was His. I never once thought about putting it to eternal uses. Oh, as the value of gold and silver increased I toyed with the idea of selling some of the pieces I didn't care that much about, but in essence I fooled myself, not thinking of this collection of jewelry as "treasure on earth"--in fact, not thinking about it much at all! It was there and it was mine and that was that.

Until my heavenly Father decided He needed to relocate His jewelry. I don't need to know why, nor to what uses He plans to put it. I simply need to gracefully accept His will and perhaps start to look around to see if I have any other "treasure on earth" that I haven't considered. It would have been such a blessing to have been involved in the redistribution of that jewelry. That would have changed my heart, too, in a way that would have brought me joy and freedom. But since I missed that opportunity, being deceived as I was, maybe now I'll recognize the next opportunity.

I'm so grateful for this hard but valuable heart lesson. Like a good daddy, the Lord takes things from me when I hold too tightly to what is 'mine'. He wants me to share. I'm learning.

The Art of Spiritual Whack-a-Mole

2011-05-14T17:27:00.005-06:00

Have you ever been to a carnival or arcade and played Whack-a-Mole? You know, it's the game where there are multiple holes out of which little mole heads pop up at random times. You stand there whacking away, trying to keep them all down. The faster you go, the faster they pop up until you're frantically flailing at all these heads.

So, I woke up early this morning and lay in bed playing a few rounds of spiritual Whack-a-Mole.

Wait, let's get one thing clear before I go on. I know I'm redeemed and thoroughly forgiven. I know I'm positionally clean before God, by the cleansing blood of Christ, my Savior. I'm good with all that.

But I carry around this sin nature that's still prone to pop up like those mole heads, sometimes fast and furious.

I start thinking about something that happened in the past, focused on an injustice done to me or a misjudgment made regarding my character or behavior. I'm the star of my show. I usually start writing a beautifully phrased letter or email in my mind, addressed to someone I believe needs to have things 'clarified'. It's not long before I'm totally focused on the circumstances and the injustices, seething with emotions, accusing others right and left, and just generally over-the-top angry all over again. A fat lot of good my clarification has done.

I'm not praying to God--I'm complaining. I'm not petitioning Him--I'm kvetching. And of course, about that time I sense His displeasure with me, and begin to realize that I'm doing it again. My spiritual version of Whack-a-Mole has become its own art form.

"I remember when he..." Up pops anger. "Sorry, Lord. Forgive me and help me to be patient." WHACK!

"She had the gall to say..." Up pops criticism. "Oh, Lord, give me a heart of real forgiveness." WHACK!

"He did that to me on purpose..." Up pops hate. "Lord, help me to love others as I love myself." WHACK!

"She's smart as kelp..." Up pops a malice. "Lord, I need to be kind." WHACK!

"I spent six years doing that and they treated me like..." Up pops pride. "Father, I repent. Grant me humility." WHACK!

"I should actually send this letter..." Up pops discontent and resentment. "Sweet Jesus, help me to trust you for what I need and let go of what I think I should receive in this life I live." WHACK, WHACK!

Up pops rebellion, slander and envy. "Dear Heavenly Father, my Savior, I surrender control of my life, and ask You to forgive me for this black hole in my heart." WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!

"PLEASE RELEASE ME FROM THIS PLACE OF STRIFE!"

And He does.

Sometimes I get going fast and furious, thinking I can just pray it all away, but you know what? My sins can just overwhelm me. Yes, of course I need to sort them out with the Lord, pray them through, be honest and clearheaded.

But in the end I need to stop, give in and let Him take it all away. The Lord may not change the circumstances around me, but He'll change me in the circumstances.

Today the Holy Spirit led me to Psalm 130:3-6.

If You, LORD, should mark iniquities,
          O Lord, who could stand?

But there is forgiveness with You,
          That You may be feared.

I wait for the LORD, my soul does wait,
          And in His word do I hope.

My soul waits for the Lord
          More than the watchmen for the morning;
          Indeed, more than the watchmen for the morning.

And so I wait. Amen.

WIP=Work In Progress

2011-04-25T19:05:00.007-06:00

I heard not long ago that the inscription on Ruth Bell Graham's tomb reads:

"END OF CONSTRUCTION. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE."

It started me thinking about the construction work the Lord is doing in my life and how it's a lot like a painting in progress. Let's face it, construction, like a partly done painting, can be quite a mess. I've had people walk into my studio at times and grimace at a painting on the easel. It's a misconception to think it looks good from start to finish. Trust me, it doesn't, and in fact every painting goes through its 'ugly stage' (see above.)

But I have a vision of the way it should look in the end, and in most cases I can complete a painting to my satisfaction. It pleases me to know where I'm heading and how I'll get there, even in the ugly phase.

My life has been going through an ugly stage lately, not because He lacks any skill or intention, but because the materials just have to be molded that way, it seems. You can see how the wet paint in the painting above has bled into the paper, out of bounds, all blotchy and smeared. But it's how the paint behaves on that paper with that amount of water. I simply let it dry and continued painting. I rather like what's there in the progress shot, even though it's odd looking, because there's some beauty showing already. I suspect Jesus looks at our lives in progress with the same optimism. And of course what He's doing is a far superior work to my humble painting.

He's patient because He has the plan already worked out. It may be a little ugly, yet also kind of interesting, and even beautiful in places now, but He knows the end from the beginning--another way of saying He knows how it will come out.

Meantime, I hope all of you, my loved ones, will be patient with me, too. I'm only a WIP in the hands of my Maker. So for now I say:

"UNDER CONSTRUCTION. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE."

Love Learning

2011-03-09T12:37:00.000-07:00

"Don't attempt to master a painting.

Love the attempt."

I stole--er, borrowed this quote from Carol Marine's blog today. I like it.

I'm in the throes of trying some new things in gouache on my tiny little pieces of paper, and having a ball despite my failed attempts.

I often fall to the feeling that I must MASTER this painting right now. I can see it, I know what I want to have happen, so it must now work.

But it doesn't--not when I force it.

It only starts to come together when my attitude becomes one of a child on an adventure, exploring possibilities, learning from my mistakes, and growing slowly in my understanding.

And of course, that often describes my walk with Christ.

I've tried to buckle down and behave myself, and good behavior is important, but my attempt isn't what makes it work. It's when I surrender control to Him--again and again and again and again--and ask to be shown the way and given what's needed that I progress. When I walk like a child, learning, trusting God, growing slowly, I progress.

So my prayer has become one of surrender:

Lord, I intend to obey

and submit

and let go of anger

and not be conformed to this world.

Please firm me in this intention

and strengthen me in Your power to enact it.

Calculating Worry

2010-12-29T10:37:00.005-07:00

Last night as I lay awake actively worrying, I turned on my radio and stuck it up next to my ear so only I could hear it and there was Chuck Swindoll's voice teaching about worry. It couldn't have been more providential. His radio program, Insight for Living, is running the most popular teachings from the last year, and I'm not even slightly surprised this is one of them.

I know when I worry I'm sinning. I'm not trusting the Lord to handle whatever has me so concerned. I feel like I have to unravel the knot or solve the code or insert the missing pieces, but that never works. It only makes things worse. Let's face it, have you ever really solved a problem you were worrying about at 2:00 in the morning? I haven't.

I found a transcript of part of what Pastor Chuck said and want to share it with you. It's certainly helped to clarify my mind on worry.

“I worry when I add, subtract, multiply, and divide.

I worry when I add . . . . when I add more things to an already full schedule; when I add pressure to my image, thinking my image and my reputation are involved in this. I worry when I add your expectations to my agenda. I worry when I have to live up to what you want me to be. There’s enough ‘Otter’ in me to want to please you and therefore there’s enough worry in me to haunt me when I don’t. I don’t want your criticism, but I receive it and I worry because I don’t fulfill your expectations of me as a man, as a pastor, as a teacher, as a friend, as a model . . . . and I want you to know I’ve put that to rest because that makes me angry. . . . angry at me, angry at you, angry at God, angry at life, angry at ministry. I worry when I add to what I already have to be (and I confess to you it is my own addition. . . it’s not yours). So I will live as best I can the balance of my life worrying less—I hope to come to the place someday where I can say worrying not at all—about what you think or whether it fulfills what you want in me. I have to please my God with the time and energy and gifts that I have been given. For me to add more to that is to make more of life than it was designed to be, and I will be an anxious man. I worry when I add.

Second. . .I worry when I subtract . . . when I subtract God’s presence from my crisis; when I subtract His timing from my desires; when I subtract prayer from my day; when I subtract perspective from the moment of difficulty. . . every time, I worry. If I miss the perspective that anxiety strangles from me, I find that I am caught up in doubt—that makes me doubt. Peter Marshall has a great line in one of his prayers as he refers to doubt coming “like the morning frost to blight my faith.” Isn’t that put well? “Doubt comes like the morning frost and it blights my faith.” When I forget . . .when I subtract God’s presence from this accident that I had, or may have; when I subtract God’s presence from this calamity, this piece of bad news, I worry. When I subtract God’s presence from my grown children’s lives I worry about my children, and it makes me doubt.

Third. . . When I multiply . . . when I multiply my problems by inserting my solutions too rapidly I worry, ‘cause they don’t work; when I look for a way out instead of the way through; when I multiply my fears with imagination. You may not do this, but I do it. It’s what I call my “what if statements”, my “but maybes” or “this could happen” line. “What if they think this”; “maybe that will happen, too”, and that makes me afraid. When I multiply I become afraid because it gets enormous enough to be the monster with claws.

And fourth. . . I worry when I divide . . . when I divide life into the secular and sacred; when I divide my day into thinking this is the Lord’s part and this is my own business. And that makes me forget. . . .

I worry when I add, and it makes me angry. I worry when I subtract, and it makes me doubt. I worry when I multiply, and it makes me afraid. I worry when I divide, and it makes me forget. . . .

What is of such great comfort to me and is perhaps the best antidote for worry in my life is to remember and to remind myself, who’s in charge here? Who’s in control, after all, on this road of life?

What is it that has you anxious? When you identify it now, do you think He’s not big enough to take that thing?”

So I add this Scripture to remind myself of who God is.

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him.” Lamentations 3:21-24

It gives me a different picture.

Burst

The Beloved Stuffed Animal

2010-11-11T16:14:00.000-07:00

My son had a stuffed bear that he carried with him incessantly as a child. This lump of formerly soft white fuzz became torn, filthy, and lost a lot of stuffing over time. I tried to clean Gundy (as we came to call him, for he was indeed a Gund bear,) but it was a losing battle. He smelled rather pungent up close, but the scent of boy, dirt, bedtime bottles and various other aromatic additions was uniquely beloved. Every night the bear slept with the boy--in fact the bear became the pillow.

Without more than a thought I can see, feel and smell Gundy...and the sleepy toddler in his jammies, hair awry, clutching him. My now-24 year old son still has him, for he is much beloved even now. Time can't change that.

Just because the stuffing has been knocked out of you, and the dirt of this world has turned what was once pure and soft to stiff, matted gray, just because you've landed in the dirt and come up worse for wear, do you think Jesus loves you any less than the boy loves the bear?

Turn to Him as Savior and accept His offer of undying love. Trust me, just as Gundy is loved despite his frazzled, dirty look, the lost stitching on his nose and lopsided stance, you are loved by Christ.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-39)

A New Song, Please!

2010-11-03T11:15:00.000-06:00

Have you ever had a silly song go through your mind over and over and over? We all have, I think. I woke up with one plaguing my mind this morning. It's old and has a slightly 'naughty' context, not outright rude or nasty, just not the kind of song I want to dwell on.

I started thinking about how the temptation to sin is a lot like that endlessly repeated song. Although consciously I don't want to hear it any more, at the slightest inattention I find myself humming the dratted thing again.

I prayed and asked the Lord to replace it with a worship song, but He didn't deliver me from it. Temptation is like that. I can ask God to take it away but the moment my mind slips into neutral the tune wafts through my mind and out onto my lips. We may pray "lead me not into temptation", but the song is still there...

I need to replace this tune, the temptation, with another one that's healthy and good. I need to choose what will go in its place, and then listen to it, even sing it aloud if I can, so that the new song fills my thoughts. I can't keep humming the little ditty and expect it to go away.

"Sin is crouching at your door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it." (Genesis 4:7) Sin will 'desire' or rule over me, as long as I let the tune go on running through my mind without replacing it.

"But each one is tempted when he is carried away and enticed by his own lust. Then when lust has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death." (James 1:14-15) Temptation is like that song. In itself it isn't sin, but it will carry me away or entice me, rising to the surface of my mind without warning. I'll start to hum along.

I recall these verses, "... that you lay aside the old self , which is being corrupted in accordance with the lusts of deceit (that song!), and that you be renewed in the spirit of your mind (listening to another tune), and put on the new self (a worship song!), which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth." (Ephesians 4:22-24)

If you have an old song going through your mind too, I pray that we we'll both enjoy a new tune today, one that entices us to the purity and beauty of holiness that comes of worshiping the Lord.

The Sacrifice of Thanksgiving

2010-10-31T12:49:00.003-06:00

"He who offers a sacrifice of thanksgiving honors Me; And to him who orders his way aright I shall show the salvation of God." Psalm 50:23

Giving thanks is a sacrifice that truly honors God.

Why? Because when I'm thankful, truly thankful (not just saying it), I keep a much lighter hold on the things of this world. In thanking Him, I come to recognize that the Lord is providing all, so I stop striving. I no longer need to exert myself, or use up all my energy, or struggle and fight to get things, look good, or receive honors.

I don't need to impress God.

I need to obey Him.

That pretty much takes my hands off the steering wheel of my own life. It used to seem scary to me to be "hands off", and I can't claim to have totally relinquished that desire to run things, but I can assure you that I have seen how the Lord's guidance prospers me in those things that are most important.

When I stop and thank Him for what He sees fit to provide and for His guidance, I "order my way aright", or to put it another way, when I keep to God's path I truly prosper in life.

Hands off.

Autumn

2010-10-04T12:28:00.001-06:00

Have you ever noticed how the palette of landscape colors change in autumn? Of course you have. Who hasn't? The shift from cool to warm colors is so refreshing. After months of green-green-green (more in some parts of the world than others) we suddenly have yellow, orange and red ablaze everywhere.

Isn't that just like the Lord? He "causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous (Matthew 5:45)," but He also comforts the senses with the warmth of color before we plunge into winter.

Aspen Glow, 12x18", pastel

Easel Basics

2010-09-11T15:58:00.000-06:00

At my easel a few years ago.

I'm busy writing an article that includes a lot of information about easels, and as I pondered what to write the Lord seemed to whisper a small thought about what an easel represents. I can't include this in the article, of course, since the magazine is about art, not faith, but I want to share it here.

What's an easel for? It's the structure that your artwork leans on, the place where it's supported as it's painted. My board or canvas leans against the strong, stable upright piece, held securely in place so that my strokes don't go astray. It keeps my work at eye level, directly under the light so I can see clearly as I add large, sweeping strokes or small, delicate details. It's always there, waiting for me to start another painting or work on one in progress, standing quietly in the studio until I'm ready to spend some time before it.

I wouldn't be the first to liken an easel to an altar. In a primitive sense it could easily seem to be the place where sacrifices are made or some kind of warped self-worship happens. But I see it entirely differently. I see it as a representation of the role Jesus plays in my life.

Look at it this way: I lean on Him, I'm supported by His hand holding me all the time. He is strong and stable, upright and unmoving beneath me. No matter what I do, He's there keeping me from going astray. He holds me still, shining light on what I do, placing it all right before my eyes so I can clearly see. Whether I make big moves or small ones, if I examine them in the light of His Word I see clearly what I have done, and what I should do as a result. He's always there, waiting for me to come to Him in prayer or study or worship, meeting me in the midst of a trial or when all is well, whenever I want to spend time before Him.

No, it isn't a big enough picture. I know that. God is more than a mere easel, and I don't intend to demean Him in any way. But on some minor level I see many things in my life and art that remind me of the basics of my faith. I don't think the Lord is offended by this comparison.

The cross is the unfailing stability of my life, the lynch-pin around which my faith circles, whether I'm glorying in salvation, mourning my sin, or returning again to worship Jesus, the God/Man who actualized the gift that makes me whole and gives me life eternal. Far more than a mere easel--yet I believe Jesus would understand the relationship between the cross and a humble wooden object crafted to serve a greater purpose, by His grace.

Two-Track Autumn

2010-08-23T22:50:00.000-06:00

Just thought I'd post my latest gouache, which is GIGANTIC! What? Doesn't it read as that big?

Well, for me it seems plenty big. In fact, it's twice the size of my usual gouache landscapes.

5" x 3.5"

As I said, GIGANTIC!

Okay, so it doesn't seem all that big to you, but to me it seems quite large. Ever think about how gigantic something seems to you, and how really small it is to God?

Watchman Nee is quoted as saying:

"Why do so many Christians pray such tiny prayers when their God is so big?"

Hmmm, maybe my painting is tiny after all.

Sculpture or Painting?

2010-07-27T12:08:00.003-06:00

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

"Spiritual Mom"

2010-06-24T15:27:00.004-06:00

There's a gap of 33 years between our ages but we're friends. We met in church, and McKenzie asked me if we could study the Bible together. I guess she thought my gray hair made me an expert — I am an older woman. The Lord gave me these verses in Titus 2:3-5 to encourage me to disciple her.

Older women likewise are to be reverent in their behavior, not malicious gossips nor enslaved to much wine, teaching what is good, so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored. (Titus 2:3-5)

Now she calls me her 'spiritual mom'. I’ve been thinking about the fact that she’ll begin discipling her daughter, teaching her to be a godly woman as she grows up. The Lord has expanded some thoughts about these verses that I'd like to share.

The words ‘older woman’ have a different connotation to us now, but when the apostle Paul wrote a letter of encouragement to Titus, who was the pastor of the church in Crete, it was honorable to be a ‘presbytis’, an older man or woman, meaning 'elder' or 'ambassador'. He encouraged Titus to look for women who were good examples to the flock, living reverent lives, loving the family and modeling submission where proper, to honor God’s word above all.

So I’ve been digging into this bit of Scripture and thinking about my friendship with McKenzie. I’ve asked myself if I’ve been this kind of example or if I’ve fallen down on the job. A better question is how I might continue to encourage her. I think there are three key issues presented here: reverent behavior, loving behavior, and submissive behavior, none of which is easy to do.

The word reverent means sacred or set apart to God, and refers to a woman who is ‘outstanding or conspicuous in her godliness’. She’s a God worshiper, one who models good moral behavior and is worthy of respect. Personally I respect McKenzie because she loves the Lord and applies His word to her life. She loves learning about the Bible and she goes to church, not because she feels obligated but because she wants to be there. We meet every week at Bible study and she always has things to add, or good questions to ask. I know her daughter, Avigail, will grow up with a mom who loves Jesus — and what better thing can a mom teach her child?

Reverent behavior includes avoiding a couple of things, identified here as gossip and intoxication. On the surface it seems easy to steer clear of these things — don’t spread rumors and don’t get drunk. But there’s something a little deeper here, I think. Personally I feel very safe with McKenzie. If someone told her a rumor about me I know she would come to me and discuss it, not as a tattle-tale but to determine the truth out of kindness and love. You don’t trust someone who gossips! Reverent behavior results in trustworthiness.

Intoxication, on the other hand, isn’t just about drinking alcohol. McKenzie (an elementary school teacher) told me about a little boy on the last day of school who was practically shaking because he was so excited and anxious about the gifts he was taking home. He was in a sense ‘drunk’, meaning he wasn’t thinking or behaving the way he usually did because of the desire to get all these things home with him. Have you ever felt that way, jumpy and upset, trying to carry too much?

In contrast, I’ve watched McKenzie streamline her life, giving up her career as a teacher in order to become a full time wife and mom, a decision I respect immeasurably, but I can tell you that I’ve met other young women who weren’t willing to do that. Why? Well, I can’t judge their motives, but I ask them to seriously question whether they’re ‘drunk’ on this world and the stuff they want... If the stuff of this world is making you anxious and not allowing you to think clearly, it might be time to streamline and focus on God’s way of doing things. So, a reverent woman is trustworthy, not a gossip, and focused on God, not drunk on the world.

These verses emphasize loving behavior, too. Older women are to teach the younger gals to love their husbands and children. How hard is that? We have to go a little bit deeper here and analyze this word. In ancient Greek there are several words for ‘love’, one that means eroticism, another meaning sacrificial love, and the word used here, which means friendship. I was talking with McKenzie’s mother-in-law not long ago and she mentioned how her kids are friends. They’ll be silly together sometimes, enjoying each other’s company. We wives are meant to be best friends to our husbands, in a lot of ways. Friends want the best for one another, they trust each other, and they spend time together.

Are we supposed to be best friends with our kids? No, not the same way — that’s too heavy a burden for a child — but I do think we’re meant to spend time with our kids. I know how much I enjoy being with my son, who is now 24. The idea is that we prefer being a mom to doing other things. Kids don’t learn what you teach them as much as they learn what the live. It’s important to nourish their little minds and let them see the primary love relationship between mommy and daddy acted out every day. I suspect McKenzie will be the kind of mom who is sensible and enjoys being with her husband and daughter. It’s a joy to provide a home that’s a sanctuary, not necessarily full of toys or belongings, but most definitely full of 'friendship' love.

And then we come to the hot-button issue so many women squirm over: submissive behavior. My pastor gave me a wonderful insight on this concept not long ago. He explained that at root the word for ‘submit’ in Greek literally refers to molding objects. People would make a mold and pour molten metal into it, shaping it into a useful object. The metal 'submits to' the mold. Likewise, when we submit to our husbands we willingly, fluidly allow our lives to be molded to theirs. Out of that molding comes our most important use, that of wife.

McKenzie is a pastor’s wife and she has the choice to allow that to mold her or to resist it. I see a woman whose life is happily shaped by her husband’s calling, as he is molded to the life of Jesus. I can tell you, however, that I recall a time when she was resistant to it! She’s never thought of herself as a girly-girl—no rugby player would! Pastor’s wife conjures up all kinds of church lady images, doesn’t it? But she has trusted God, and let Him mold her life, changing her heart.

Now I see a woman who is reverent in her behavior, trustworthy, and focused on God. I see a woman who is a friend and companion to her husband, and who I’m confident will model loving behavior to her daughter. And I see a woman who is truly submitted to God and understands that her life is molded to that of her husband.

So it’s a privilege to have had a part in her discipleship, standing next to her as she’s grown in understanding, and to be her friend. I look forward to witnessing the wonderful, godly adventure she will go through as she raises her little one.

Demonstration: Mountains and Aerial Perspective

2010-05-24T10:43:00.004-06:00

It's important to recall that you can't make good value judgments until you have all the colors in place, meaning that most of the adjustments come at the very end. It made me smile to remember that only God sees the big picture, the global value judgments, so to speak, and thus I really must trust Him to make the calls and do the final adjustments. As the Artist, He knows the goal, sees the values, and controls the process it takes to get there.

Some days I feel like a tiny speck of pigment swirling in a composition that currently makes no sense. I cannot figure out how "all things work together for good", as the Bible promises believers in Romans 8:28. Then I recall that the Artist's composition is a WIP, a Work In Progress, from my perspective, but from His point of view it is fully complete, perfectly executed without error.

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11

20-Stroke Painting

2010-05-20T10:08:00.001-06:00

Sometimes it's a good idea to cut to the bone and see what comes of it. This exercise is a way to challenge myself to get down to what is really needed to express something, using efficient strokes. I tried to limit myself to twenty. I enjoy the beauty of the loose strokes, the incidental marks, and the simplicity of the expression.

It may be a bit like those times when the Lord cuts away part of your "flesh life." It's so easy to get in the habit of having everything cushy and comfortable, and just going on your way through life without thinking about it. Then one day the Lord removes something--something you thought of as natural and forever, like the use of one part of your body. One day a part breaks or ends up being incapacitated, and you recognize that it's inconvenient, challenging, even slightly faith-shaking, but when you get down to the essence, you really can function without it. In fact, in some ways you notice that you get it, understanding what you really need and what you can forgo. It may not be as cushy, it may not be too comfortable, but it may allow you to see that you can function with less.

I wonder what the Lord might do with that in your life? It brings new meaning to "less is more", when I think that I gain from losing.

Then he said to the crowd, "If any of you wants to be my follower, you must put aside your selfish ambition, shoulder your cross daily, and follow me. If you try to keep your life for yourself, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for me, you will find true life." Luke 9:23-24 NLT

Fruit

2010-05-08T15:45:00.002-06:00

I've become so interested in painting in gouache, not to mention making these little ATC/ACEO sized painting (2.5" x 3.5") and suddenly the idea of painting fruits from life in simple settings has captivated me. It came out of a thread at Wet Canvas where we're featuring different subjects each month. I wasn't too thrilled with painting still life--then.

NOW I'm enthralled.

Two Navels

Lean on Me

Pear in Blue

It just goes to show that the fruit of your life may be somewhat unexpected to you, but it comes of a lot of little things dovetailing, however unexpectedly. I made a painting of oranges because I was given a delightful gift of a HUGE box of oranges fresh from a California grove. I wanted to prepare some paintings to show on the thread I mentioned above, since I'm hosting it for a couple of months, so I plopped two oranges on a white napkin and gave it a go. I didn't sit down and think it through or make a plan to start doing still life. I didn't search for the perfect fruit to paint. All the parts simply came together.

The fruit of a life grows out of what you do daily. It isn't what you plan to be or strive to become, it's what comes of daily choices. I'm a Christian so I sit down with the Lord every day to study the Bible and pray. That decision is as natural as morning coffee now, not something I have to make myself do. And from my study and prayer come the daily decisions I make, some small, some large, some easy, some hard.

Just the way that painting these oranges grew out of the circumstances of my life, so the fruit of life grows naturally out of daily decisions, out of who we are. I've never seen a tree striving to put out fruit. I suspect not one of those oranges I received was a result of a tree that squeezed and concentrated or planned and hatched a plot to grow it. They were the result of a tree, roots, sunshine, water, as well as the care and labor given by the grower.

Naturally.

"To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven..." Ecclesiastes 3:1

Stones, Weeds and Dry Leaves

2010-04-10T13:56:00.003-06:00

Plum in Pink, 3.5" x 2.5" gouache on Bristol vellum

I can't claim this painting is authentic. It's the plum tree I can see in the back yard. I painted it to record the light at the very end of the day, when one last shaft of sunlight seems to illuminate the tree from the inside out. But it isn't real. I'd love it if there were a carpet of lush, green grass leading up to it, but here in sun-baked New Mexico a lawn like that takes a lot of water, weeding and work. What's really there are stones and weeds and, at the moment, a lot of dead, dry leaves that have yet to be raked up and disposed of. (True confession time! Ack.)

How often do we 'dress things up' to look better than they really are? It's commonly done, and even considered polite. No one wants to be faced with stark reality all the time and have to deal with the un-raked leaves or weeds of another's life. Grass is much more beautiful than stones. Now, in my paintings I'm more than willing to change what's there to make a more interesting and compelling painting, but in life I need to be careful to live authentically and be transparent. Christians should be willing to "live in glass houses", letting folks see who and what they are without a lot of window dressing.

So, I hope you enjoy this grass...it's quite lovely and easy to maintain in the painting. My life, likewise, may look good to you, lush and green, but you should know that I struggle with weeds and old leaves and a stony yard. I'm so very grateful to be forgiven by God when the 'weeds' get tall, and to have a patient, loving Father when the 'old leaves' are still there in spring, and to know that He's guiding every step through the 'stones' on my path. And I know He smiles when I paint something to look more beautiful than it is. I think that was His original plan and the way he'll make things again in the future.

Maybe He looks at you and me the same way, with an eye to His original plan and what He will restore us to in heaven. Lush, green, verdant, well-watered--and blossoming with youth and beauty.

He shall be like a tree Planted by the rivers of water, That brings forth its fruit in its season, Whose leaf also shall not wither; And whatever he does shall prosper. Psalms 1:3

~Deborah

Anointing

2010-04-04T12:50:00.002-06:00

The Anointing at Bethany

Mark 14:3-9

And being in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper, as He sat at the table, a woman came having an alabaster flask of very costly oil of spikenard. Then she broke the flask and poured it on His head. But there were some who were indignant among themselves, and said, “Why was this fragrant oil wasted? For it might have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they criticized her sharply.

But Jesus said, “Let her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a good work for Me. For you have the poor with you always, and whenever you wish you may do them good; but Me you do not have always. She has done what she could. She has come beforehand to anoint My body for burial. Assuredly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.”

I remember a beautiful little blue glass perfume bottle that my mother kept tucked away in the corner of her top drawer, only to be used on special occasions when she dressed up, putting on her pearl necklace and pretty high heels. I loved the tall, elegantly carved bottle, and its warm, dusky scent is indelibly linked to celebrations in my mind. Each time I read of this anointing of Jesus I can’t help but visualize that same fragile, deep blue bottle. I see it broken, as the intense, sweet aroma overwhelms me.

Can you imagine owning a bottle of perfume worth a year’s wages? Around here the average per capita income is about $30,000. Let’s say that you have a little blue bottle like the one I remember, worth $30,000 or so. You’d have to save your money for years to purchase such a thing. You’d tuck it away in a vault or your safe-deposit box. Okay, now imagine taking the unopened bottle, breaking the slender neck and pouring it out—all of it—as worship to God. Wow! That would be really extravagant!

Admit it. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re thinking how wasteful that would be. Think of all the things you could do with all the money you make in a year, good things benefiting others. And even if you didn’t need it to live on, you’d benefit from that money, wouldn’t you? Let’s say you gave it anonymously to a wonderful charitable organization assisting widows and orphans. If you’re like me, you’d also glory in the idea that you saved all that money and gave it away.

But as a result, more than once you’d think about the widows and orphans you gave it to, I bet. Am I implying this would be bad? Not completely. I’m only pointing out that if you poured your perfume out before the Lord it’s possible you would think of that as wasteful—but would it be? Just as you would repeatedly think of the widows and orphans, wouldn’t you think of the One who received your gift? Remember, He’s the Maker of all, even the heady scent of that perfume. To give it to Him is to return it to the One who gave it to you. How is that wasteful?

Jesus says that this tale of the woman’s gift to Him will be told all over the world as a memorial to her. He wants us to appreciate her gift, to emulate her heart. It was out of worship to the living God that she gave. And she gave it all to Him. Even the pretty little blue bottle was broken, no longer able to hold perfume—though I’m sure the scent lingered freely on it for years.

I wonder how many times she recalled that day, how often her heart swelled with the memory of the expensive gift, the sweet aroma of worship, that she gave Him out of her great love. Surely that extravagant worship was worth the price.

(c) 2008 D. Secor

Rushing Streams and Solid Rocks

2010-03-28T17:00:00.006-06:00

Falls River, 4.25" x 3.25"

gouache on Somerset Black Velvet printmaking paper

I'm preparing some 'rocks and water' paintings to share on WetCanvas soon in a thread devoted to that theme. I love painting this subject matter and wanted to show submerged rocks in this one.

Green River Falls, 6.5x4.5 (paper size)

also on Somerset Black Velvet

I left a border on this one, making it quite dramatic, I think. Below is a close up to show you the loose brushwork I enjoy.

Colorado Runoff, 3.5 x 2.5"

gouache on Bristol Vellum

This one is meant to demonstrate the splash that's so much fun with gouache. Adding those sparkling lights last is always a thrill.

___________

Like these rocks that seem so stable and unmoving, despite the rush of water around them, I will not be moved.

"To stand"= histēmi (Gk.) :

to place, put, set
to make firm, fix, establish
to set or place in a balance
to stop, stand still, to stand immovable, stand firm
continue safe and sound, stand unharmed, to stand ready or prepared
to be of a steadfast mind
one who does not hesitate, does not waiver

"Therefore take up the whole armor of God,

that you may be able to withstand in the evil day,

and having done all, to stand."

Ephesians 6:13

Deborah

Green without 'Green'

2010-03-17T12:53:00.000-06:00

Elena's Greens

12" x 9"

pastel on Wallis paper

I taught a class last week on how to paint greens without using any actual green pastel sticks. Instead I layered a lot of turquoise, cobalt, cerulean and ultramarine blues with gold, yellow, yellow-ochre and pale orange to arrive at 'green' colors. In the course of the painting I used almost every other hue in my palette, except true green. This exercise helps illustrate the almost unlimited palette of colors you can derive from using what you have creatively.

Isn't that a lot like life with the Lord? When I look at what He's given me, the talents and giftings from Him, the experiences I've lived through as I've grown to trust Him, there's every reason to be confident that I have everything I need to accomplish what He gives me to do. It's just that sometimes He may ask me to make new and different "mixtures" in order to arrive at an outcome, instead of falling back on my old tried-and-true methods.

Lately He's taken away from me a few of my old reliable methods and means and asked me to be open to new leadings from Him. We've left the church we attended and have loved for almost 11 years to move on to something new. He's taken away from me some things I'd grown quite confident of having at hand, a lot like that range of green pastel sticks that I put aside last week.

I'm not to plunge in and willy-nilly mix things up just to get moving, but to wait for Him to show me what He wants of me. If it's to be 'green', and I have no green sticks, He may ask me to try a few new mixes to see the results. I very much enjoyed the creative challenge of making green without green, and I think the painting above is successful as a composition, with a good range of values and interesting details. But the highlight of the piece is the color green, which is in actuality a product of the process used to arrive at it.

As am I.

This child of God is a WIP (work in progress) but it's good to find yourself in the hands of the Master Creator.

Deborah

Is it SPRING yet?

2010-03-06T11:13:00.000-07:00

Royal Garden, gouache on mat board, 2.5" x 3.5"

Heather, gouache on mat board, 3.5" x 2.5"

The refreshing of the earth is a gift from God, isn't it? It's so good to stand at the door and sense spring coming. I'm so ready for it! I want warm air caressing my face and arms and the sweet scent of flowers on the breeze. Spring--when you turn the heater on in the car in the morning and the air conditioner in the afternoon, wear a sweater out but come home in shirt sleeves, or bask with a steaming cup of coffee in the morning sun but enjoy that tall iced tea in the afternoon. Delicious time...coming soon. It's on the wind. Praise God!

A GIFT FOR YOU... my book: 'Landscapes in Pastels'

2010-02-10T15:52:00.001-07:00

I'm announcing the release of my book!

But the best part is that it's NOT for sale, it's a gift. Okay, the truth is you have to accept the gift in installments, but hey, it's free! I contemplated selling it, but in the final analysis I decided that it was better to give. Jesus tells us, "Freely you have received, freely give." So I will. I hope you enjoy and benefit from it. There's a lot in it about both the landscape and painting with the wonderful medium of pastels.

Take a look here: Landscape Painting in Pastels I have lots more to post there, but it will come. I'll post here when I add chapters, but if it's something you're interested in it will be best to follow that blog.

I have a fancy layout all done in MS Word format, but the blog seems to be the most direct and streamlined way to deliver the information. I hope you enjoy it!

Deborah

Slow Fade, by Casting Crowns

2010-02-03T15:45:00.010-07:00

Do you know this song? I heard it recently, though it isn't new. It's touched me. Songs can carry a lot of emotional weight. The line that caught my mind:

It's the second glance that ties your hands as darkness pulls the strings.

I'm reminded of King David, who was a mature man when he took a second long look at Bathsheba.

Then it happened one evening that David arose from his bed and walked on the roof of the king’s house. And from the roof he saw a woman bathing, and the woman was very beautiful to behold. (2 Sam. 11:2)

David didn't see her and look away. It was the second look that changed everything. It's root in Hebrew means in part 'to inspect'. He watched her, spellbound perhaps.

Who am I to cast stones at King David for this? I've beheld a thing or two in my life, too. (Saved by grace through faith...)

But I'm glad the song reminds us to be careful not to gaze or walk where we should never go.

http://www.castingcrowns.com/

Deborah

CHRIST IS BORN

2009-12-24T11:53:00.014-07:00

Praise Him for the Incarnation
For the Word made flesh.
I will not sing
of shepherds watching flocks
on frosty night
or angel choristers.
I will not sing of stable bare in Bethlehem
Or lowing oxen
Wise men
Trailing distant star
With gold and frankincense and myrrh
Tonight I will sing
Praise to the Father
Who stood on heaven’s threshold
And said farewell to His Son
As He stepped across the stars
To Bethlehem
And Jerusalem.
And I will sing praise to the infinite eternal Son
Who became most fine
A Baby
Who would one day be executed
For my crimes
Praise Him in the heavens.
Praise Him in the stable.
Praise Him in my heart.
Joseph Bayly

A Loving Father and the 1930 Yearbook

2009-11-03T14:54:00.009-07:00

My mom is 97, fairly healthy, and lives with us. Not long ago she and I went out together on the Internet to look at her old hometown of Council Bluffs, Iowa. She hasn't lived there since the 40s but it's still 'home' to her, of course. There are a lot of memories tied up in the place where you grew up.

We spent some time looking at Abraham Lincoln High School and I found a link on the Pottawatamie County Genealogical Society's page where you could request photographs. Her graduation year, 1930, was listed, so I sent off a request, mentioning that Mom had never received a copy of her yearbook. I forgot about it until today when I received an email telling me... well, here, read for yourself:

Hi, You are in luck - we have a spare 1930 AL yearbook. I find your mother pictured, so pretty. If you want to purchase the book we ask $10.00 plus $2.00 postage and handling.

Now, I'm not so sure it's luck at play here! Mom tells a story about how she never purchased a yearbook because she had stretched her father's budget pretty far and just didn't want to ask for more to get the book. Then one evening somewhat later someone was visiting and her father asked to see the yearbook. She confessed she hadn't gotten one--and he was upset (probably a bit embarrassed). That's most likely why she remembers it some 79 years later.

Needless to say, I'm delighted to spend $12.00 to be able to give her something so long awaited. Mom has made a new commitment to the Lord in the last two months, so it's no surprise to me that her Heavenly Father has seen fit to supply something that fell through the cracks all those years ago.

That's the Abba I know!

Deborah

Psalm 51 and Blind Contour Drawings

2009-10-24T12:38:00.005-06:00

I know it sounds like an odd combination, but I hope it will make sense.

If you don't remember psalms by the numbers (who does?) this one was written by David about his, ahem, indiscretions with Bathsheba. Let's face it, he committed adultery and then arranged the murder of her husband thinking he could cover up the conception of a child. Yeah, the child was born early. No, really...it happens. Uh huh. His sin was uncovered.

So how does David's song of repentance and restoration relate to blind contour drawing? In doing this kind of drawing you gaze steadfastly at the object and draw it without looking at the paper. I was over on one of the other sites where friends have joined in the fun (see my post on Blind Contour Drawings below) and there was a mention that the trick is to match the speed of your hand with the speed of your eye. Part of the reason these drawings are hard is because your hand and eye don't move at the same rate. Your eye is so much faster and when you aren't looking at the paper (the definition of BLIND contour drawing) you have to match the two. It's hard!

I think David let his eye get out ahead of him, gazing at the object of his lust, and instead of using the lag time while his 'hand' caught up as a chance to think it through and resist the temptation, he just slowed down his eye and lingered there. He went through with it.

Well, we're all sinners, and I can't cast a stone at David for what he did. But I'm so grateful that he wrote Psalm 51.

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me."

Temptations come, but I have a choice. I can practice blind contour drawings, learning to see and do simultaneously, allowing my eye and hand to work together. Slowing down helps a lot. It gives me time to draw the picture the way it really is and think things through more clearly!

Deborah

Perspective applied to the Christian Walk

2009-08-24T10:14:00.006-06:00

I'm learning not to judge solely by my own perspective on a thing. It's probably a painfully obvious lesson, since it's so rudimentary in some ways, but my life and my faith walk often bring me back to the basics. So here I am again.

This morning I watched a YouTube video of an artist with no eyes, named Esref Armagan. In it the narrator says, "...vision also involves our ability to understand space." I'm constantly reminding myself to draw what I see, and NOT to draw what I think I see. This remarkable man is able to draw space without the benefit of sight. I wonder if his perception is clarified by the lack of vision, so that in knowing space he isn't distracted by seeing it. I can't say.

My study this morning was in 1 Corinthians 10. In verse 24 it says, "Let no one seek his own good, but that of his neighbor." The word good is an additional clarification, added into the text for my understanding, but without that word it's interesting: "Let no one seek his own, but that of his neighbor." I started thinking about my own perceptions compared to those of my neighbor. If I set up my easel in one spot and a fellow artist puts her easel next to mine, we may be looking at the same thing but we don't have the same view. My painting, if accurate, will be different from hers. If she asks for a critique and I walk over to her easel and start to analyze her work, without looking at it from her point of view, I could lead her astray. If all I bring is my point of view, my perception of what she needs to do in the painting, I will most likely take her way off course. It's not what I think I see, but seeing things from her point of view that will allow me to help her.

So it is in my Christian walk. I shouldn't step into someone's life and decide what's good for her based solely on my own point of view. I need to know the accurate truth, which necessitates taking the time to look from her viewpoint so that I might help her perceive reality clearly, and bringing to her the Truth from the Bible, which is always the right perspective. Thank God.

Deborah

Deb@deborahsecor.com

Beautiful Storms

2009-03-20T12:39:00.005-06:00

Storm Clouds, 3x4.5" on Somerset Black Velvet paper

I'm enjoying these explorations with gouache so much. I have some very blurry images on my computer from a (now defunct, sadly) web camera in the area of my home. The view was of Sandia, showing the progression of weather over the mountain throughout the day in hyper-speed. I loved being able to see the cloud formations come and go. I used one of those images as inspiration for this one.

As it notes in the title of my blog, this is a record of the clearing skies of my life, but we all have to endure storms. I'm so thankful that the Lord uses the trials and troubles of life to remind me to snuggle up to Him a little closer, which is the only real comfort there is for me! As Jesus said, "In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." So the rain will fall but I look it as merely scenic when I remember to run into His arms and not be afraid of the future.

The Black and White of It

2009-03-06T12:52:00.008-07:00

Yesterday I taught a class on the Japanese concept of notan (NO-tahn) , meaning 'black/white'. I find this means of analyzing the underlying distilled abstraction of a composition to be quite valuable. It gets me back to basics, where I can make decisions that aren't muddied up with lots of useless details or frivolous color. Just simple black and white.

The idea is to

use no line
keep spaces between shapes unequal
establish a primary value (50% or more), a secondary value, and an accent value

If you create a good underlying value structure and stick with it to the end, you'll have a strong painting when you're finished. It's the same in life. The word of God is the value structure you need to stick with... as the old hymn says:

On Christ the solid Rock I stand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

Here are a few of my studies, done about the size of a business card using an 8b pencil.

And another composition:

Meek Gray

2009-01-07T07:28:00.009-07:00

I'm a colorist. I love sassy, saturated colors that bounce and vibrate on the page. Give me a loud purple, a brassy orange or a lush yellow-green any day. But last fall I recognized that my palette lacked neutral colors, and not long after that my friend Maggie Price came out with a lovely selection of gray pastels made by Terry Ludwig, the Essential Grays. The name started me thinking...are grays essential?

I can't deny that grays have an important role to play. Too many sassy, brassy, bouncing colors on one page and all you have is chaos. None of them look good--it becomes a 'look at me' competition that no one wins. If all I use is purple, orange and yellow-green I have a garish, blatant color scheme that's actually offensive. Neutral grays become the support system that lets each color have its proper place and function. I use them in my paintings to make colors look wonderful!

And then it suddenly hit me. For years I've been teaching that value is a basic property of color. The darkness or lightness of any color underlies its chroma (hue), which is what gives us the freedom to utilize any color in a given location, as long as it's of the proper value or tone. "Color gets the credit while value does the work," as you've likely heard said. You can substitute the word 'gray' in that sentence, since light and dark are usually expressed in grayscale. "Color gets all the credit while gray does all of the work." Grays really are essential! They underlie all color.

Stay with me here. Let me take a little side trip and then I'll explain what hit me.

How do you make a gray? Most of us know we can mix black and white (dark and light) to get gray, but we can also gray down a color by adding its complement. Red grays green. Blue grays orange. Yellow grays purple. And vice versa, of course. In addition to that, I've discovered that I can mix a very pleasant set of grays using a triad of pastels. I put down green, lavender and peach, and arrive at a gray that I love, which I often use for clouds (see the painting above). That gray is thus made of: green (yellow+blue), purple (blue+red), and orange (red + yellow). Every color in the spectrum is there! This makes perfect sense, when you think of it, because value underlies all color...

What hit me? Well, I was studying 1 Peter 3 this morning, unpacking the meaning of the words in verses 3-4: Your adornment must not be merely external--braiding the hair, and wearing gold jewelry, or putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God. I looked up the meaning of the word 'gentle' and discovered in the original Greek it means 'meek'. I'm not good at meekness. It's tough for me not to dispute or resist things. I often chafe under God's hand, not remaining patient and submissive to Him. I learn things the hard way. Yet this gentle quietness of spirit is what God finds precious. Why? I asked God why being meek is so precious to Him and it hit me: it's like a good gray. It contains all the colors of the rainbow, and thus allows every other color to rest on or next to it and look good. Gray is meek.

I desire to be a useful gray in Jesus's hand, a support to others, one that makes your colors shine when you come near. I've had my day of being the purple, orange and yellow-green, and God has used each of those aspects to make me what I am today. But I'm no longer just one color, I'm a mixture in His hands, and I'm slowly becoming a beautiful, meek gray that He can use to glorify Himself.

...On those days when I don't resist and chafe, but submit to His gentle touch, that is. I'm a gray that's still being mixed, I guess.

What do tests accomplish?

2008-12-30T07:47:00.010-07:00

Ever been through a test? I'm not talking about the tests that you took in school, I'm talking about a live-it-out test from the Lord. Tests come in all forms, and often overlap in the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual realms.

I'm going through a test right now. I spend so much time painting that the Lord ties the two together for me. One bit of advice I usually give my students is not to rush over the rough parts, but to stop and consider HOW you might solve a problem. This gives you a chance to consider various solutions. When painting, you're in the driver's seat, of course. In life you're not--at least you're not if you've offered yourself to the Lord as a living sacrifice (Romans 12:1), as I have. God is the driver. So how do the two compare?

This way: when you get to a place in your painting or your life where you don't quite know how to handle things, don't willy-nilly rush through it fearfully, just trying to erase the bad or uncomfortable or embarrassing parts, but take the time to consider carefully the situation and the REAL solution.

It's so easy to auto-focus on the problem in a painting. I used to find the problem and scrub out the offending part as quickly as I could get it out of there, or, conversely, spend more time massaging what was already beautiful in order to ignore the problem, putting off working on that one part. I've discovered that if I will simply stop, take my painting off the easel away from the pastels, and spend time ON the problem, the solution that comes is not only helpful to the painting, it becomes a tool I have at hand in considering the next problem of its kind.

When I come to a rough patch in life my instinct is to duck my head and lean into the pressure, to pull harder and try to fix things myself, which usually involves either making more money (as if money mends everything) or filling my mind with things that distract me from my troubles (as if by not thinking, things will be better.) Now, as I go through this trial, I know the Lord is urging me to treat it the same way I do a painting. Take the time to consider what's there and think back to the times I've been here before.

Oh, the solution isn't in my power, as it is when I'm painting, but the way to arrive at a peaceful place is exactly the same. Don't try to scrub out the offending parts. Don't massage the places that are working as a means of distraction. Stop. Take time to consider what has worked before...or in this case, WHO has worked before. I can't tell you how many times the Lord has proved Himself to me, providing exactly what I need at the perfect time. And I have some powerful promises for the future from Him, too. The past looks good. The future looks better.

So this time is no different. I'm drawn to Peter's advice. "There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world."

He's the Artist. I choose to trust Him for the outcome. Thanks for your prayers!

Oh--and don't scrub out that offending part of your painting so fast. Take time, think it through. That way, when you find the solution, you have something you can really rely on for the future.

Should the Yellow Brag...?

2008-12-10T07:04:00.005-07:00

I sit down each morning to study the Bible. It's a time of quiet communion with the Lord Jesus. Most mornings I smile and pray and get on with my work, whether it's cleaning up the kitchen and making the bed, or planning a class and writing my book. But today...well, today was a show stopper.

Today I studied Romans 15:17-18. Naturally I had to look at this in context, so I can't say it was just those verses, but that's where it started. It reads:

Therefore in Christ Jesus I have found reason for boasting in things pertaining to God. For I will not presume to speak of anything except what Christ has accomplished through me...

The writer, the apostle Paul, is pointing out that he can only brag about what Jesus has done through him, not about what he has done for God. That emphasis really got my attention.

It's not about my service, not even if what I'm doing is right or good or important or holy. It's not about my success as an artist, not about how I serve at church, not about my home--not about MY anything. I'm merely the tool Jesus uses sometimes to do things.

I thought about the pastels I use. They're tools that I pick up to make a painting. I have a lot of pastels, each one a slightly different color. I love every one of those colors! They make the painting--but just because I love them and used them to make it, do they have bragging rights?

Would it be right for that yellow on the wall to say, "Look! I'm the perfect color for a wall in sunlight. Deborah used me to do that. It's a privilege"? No, it has no right to brag about the painting. It didn't make it. In fact, it could really only understand the little part it plays, not the total painting.

I know the metaphor is a bit inept and breaks down, but it helped me to see that I need to do what Christ empowers me to do and not become focused on my little part in it. I love my work. I enjoy being an artist, taking care of my home, serving my church. But what brings me to my knees is what Jesus has done in my home, at my church, and through my work.

I love painting and teaching art, and if some of you are finding some enjoyment in the paintings or learning a few things, that's just great. Please enjoy and learn. But please also know that the lesson and the joy itself has come from Jesus. I can't take credit for that. It would be like the yellow bragging about the sunlight...

Thankfulness

2008-11-20T08:23:00.006-07:00

Grace

Soft pastel, 8x10"

This is a painting I've had for a while but I love the simple expression of gratitude. One of the pastors from our church 'posed' for my camera when I asked him to show me how he prayed. I think I captured the sincerity and fervency that characterize his life and walk with the Lord Jesus. May we all be so sincerely and fervently thankful!

manipulated images for worship series

2007-06-09T13:13:00.001-06:00

Feelings/Decisions

2007-05-28T12:56:00.002-06:00

As a godly woman I’m not to base decisions on impressions or feelings alone. I’m to seek God’s will on everything, and make decisions based on criteria that are far more biblical than mere feelings. My feelings are far too shallow to trust. I’m supposed to come to understand God’s will using a set of biblical principles.

George Mueller was a Christian man who started several orphanages in England in the mid-1800s. He based every decision on five steps, which he shared in a book called Answers to Prayer. These principles are straightforward and understandable, so I use them to help me decide what God’s will is for me. They go like this:
1) get your ‘self’ out of it, so that you have no will of your own;
2) don’t leave the result to feeling or simple impression;
3) let any leading from the Spirit line up with the Word, so you know it is biblical;
4) consider providential circumstances;
5) ask God in prayer to reveal His will;
6) do this two or three times, praying, studying the Word, reflecting, so that you can make a conscious decision.
He notes that it doesn’t matter how trivial the matter or how momentous it is, this method of approach always works.

We women are so easily deceived, not to mention self-deceived, that we can far too easily believe with all our hearts that a decision is from God and be dead wrong. I notice that Mr. Mueller puts consideration of feelings behind getting your own will out of it. It’s so easy to have a desire for something and feel like it’s all good, when it might not be. This can be true of something as simple as buying a purse or as big as marrying a man—the process is no different. So I decided to take a look at this more closely. It’s something I’ve been trying to practice lately.

It’s true that the Holy Spirit leads us quietly via impressions and feelings, but we women function on the feeling level so easily that the leading of the Spirit is drowned out as we allow ourselves to be influenced by the world. If we let our feelings lead we’ll just walk right over and buy that purse, justifying it as the right decision based on the sign that says HALF OFF or the ad telling us we deserve it, but the momentary feeling of satisfaction we get evaporates on the drive home as we face the fact we made a decision based on little more than ‘I want it.’ There wasn’t even a chance for the Holy Spirit to whisper. He’d have had to yell to be heard, and He’s too much of a gentleman to do that. He wants you to stop and ask and listen. So, honestly evaluate this: have you let the world drown out His voice?

The solution begins when you get yourself off the throne and put God there instead. You have to ask yourself if this decision results in good feelings only if you get to buy the purse. Can you end up feeling good about not buying it? You want the purse—it feels right to get it, not to walk away without it, right? But stop and think, if getting it will cause conflict, will you feel good? If the money isn’t in the budget how good will you feel? If the reason you want it is because you saw another woman with a purse like it and you want to be in style, even though you already have a couple of purses you can use, you’re dealing with envy. Trust me, there will always be something else to envy--the fashion world makes sure of that. So envy doesn’t result in good feelings either.

The goal here is to dispassionately, without any deep feelings, explore what will result from deciding not to get it, as well as from deciding to take it home with you. It’s no longer about feelings but results. Once you can get clear of the feelings you can begin to hear God’s leading. This is hard to do, but it’s not impossible. It helps to practice it in some of these smaller decisions like buying a purse. When you put God in charge and truly can say you don’t care whether you get this purse or not, you’re ready to go on to step two.

“What? All I’m doing is thinking about buying a purse and I have to go through all this? I’ll be here all day trying to decide and probably buy half the store while I’m at it,” you might think. I told you it takes practice. It gets easier in time. Yes, you now have to examine any impression that’s left to see if it’s the leading of the Spirit or just a sinful notion fed by the world. How can you tell? Go on to step three—compare it to what the Bible says. This is where knowing the Bible accurately and having verses memorized helps. What could God possibly have to say about buying a purse? How about, ‘Don’t be selfish; don’t live to make a good impression on others.’ (Philippians 2:3 NLT) Ask yourself if you want this purse in order to impress someone else. Put the purse back on the shelf and do a lap of the store as you pray. You’re into steps four and five already. Take into consideration that the purse is there and it’s on sale today. Ask God if He put it there for you because it’s something you need or want. (God doesn’t deny us our wants and only give us our needs, or else He wouldn’t have made the sky blue but a dingy gray. He loves giving us things to delight us, as any loving father does. Just don't use this as your sole justification to get what you want!) Ask if this price is something He provided for you, or if He has a better plan for that money. Remember to keep yourself from being influenced too much by your feelings alone.

If you come back to the purse and you can honestly say that this is a decision that’s godly and fair, you can pay for the purse and use it with a good conscience, or you can walk away from it and know that this wasn’t God’s best for you and never think about it again. Your mind is clear, your decision is solid, the outcome is satisfying. If you need to, take a couple of laps of the store, or go home and have lunch and wait to make the decision until you know the right answer. Isn’t it worth a little extra time and consideration to know that the decision is sound and godly? Buying the purse will give you practice in making godly decisions so that you sleep soundly at night, and prepares you to make a good, sound, godly decision about big things...like whether to marry that man!

…If all you want is your own way, flirting with the world every chance you get, you end up enemies of God and his way. And do you suppose God doesn't care? The proverb has it that "he's a fiercely jealous lover." And what he gives in love is far better than anything else you'll find. It's common knowledge that "God goes against the willful proud; God gives grace to the willing humble." So let God work his will in you. Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and he'll be there in no time. (James 4: 1-7 MSG)

Ephesians 6:13-18 -- The Armor of God

2007-05-02T08:13:00.002-06:00

Lord,

Let truth surround me,

Let righteousness defend me,

Let peace motivate me,

Let faith shield me,

Let salvation cover me,

Let the Word of God go forth.

Amen

A New Home

2007-04-17T22:08:00.000-06:00

I don't think anyone has been hanging out here breathlessly checking to see why I haven't posted in a while, but for the record I've been in the throes of moving. We sold our house in the mountains, where we've lived for 15 years, and moved to a small rental house in the city. It's been a challenge all the way, although the Lord has been evident througout the whole process. We now live in half the space we had, in a house that's almost 100 years old, in the midst of what's called the 'student ghetto', a less than affluent but definitely mixed area of rentals and one-owner homes. The house to one side of ours stands as a burned out shell, and the two other houses behind ours on the same piece of property are inhabited by much younger people than we are, logically a part of the student population. There's a lovely, well-maintained house on the other side.

How has the Lord made Himself known to us? We're in the process of beginning a ministry to the homeless, the major reason we moved down here to the city, and it doesn't surprise me that God has arranged to give us a born-again believer with a heart for evangelism for a landlord. We don't know when or how, but we're beginning to sense that there will come a time when all three of the houses owned by our landlord might be inhabited by other believers, perhaps those who truly need shelter, or missionaries or teachers and preachers of the Word. Who knows?

I don't have a studio yet. There's a small room in the house that will eventually be adapted to this use, with wonderful light from the east and north, and a funky old window into the living room. I stood out there today envisioning where I'll put the easel, a mirror, my 'new' taboret (it's an old piece adapted to this new use), and the cabinet that I will stuff with my supplies. It's small but chummy, a place I'll enjoy. I can't believe I've actually cut down the size of the space I'm using, especially since my mountain studio was featured in more than one issue of a magazine devoted to how to function in a 'small' studio. Smaller still feels just right at the moment, however.

As soon as I can begin to paint again I'll share new work. It still might be a while...so, just in case there is someone breathlessly waiting, please don't turn blue. The wheels grind slow but exceedingly fine. All will be well.

Vision

2007-01-20T16:37:00.001-07:00

Sinuous shadows always intrigue me. I took the source photo for this one last summer at a paint-out in the valley. I saw the delicious shadow shapes as soon as I arrived and quickly stepped out of the car, camera in hand, to make sure the earliest sun was recorded. There’s a brilliant intensity to the light first thing in the morning that is so seductive.

I took the photo into Elements and played with it, changing the colors and intensifying the contrasts. I blurred it so that I couldn’t see anything but the light and dark shapes and that liquid turquoise color. I find that blurring it to the point that I can’t see any of the details helps me think in terms of shapes defined by value, enhanced by color. Of course, all I have to do is take off my glasses and place the photo across the room. I’m decidedly nearsighted, still able to read the fine print without glasses, but my distance vision is bad.

I painted it on a new product that Richeson sent me, Gatorboard covered with a gesso and pumice coating. This one was 8x10” and bright white. I like the way the brilliant white allows the colors to sing. The white by the dark tree has been added, because I darkened the sky with a few swift strokes of pale blue. I recomposed the trees on the right side, adding some in front of the rest to balance the composition, and the building has some bumps and bulges that just happened, but they appealed to me because I often see things bleeding into each other that way. It’s probably a fault in my vision, which is pretty bad.

I think the Lord arranges it so that all of us see things a bit differently, sometimes by changing our eyesight. I remember as a 13-year-old looking up at the moon. It was a time when all of America looked at the moon. The ‘space race’ was on, and President Kennedy had told us we’d actually get there one day! I saw several overlapping shapes, which I mentioned to my parents. As you can imagine, they hauled me into an optometrist pretty quickly. I still think a moon made with four or five overlapping circles is far more interesting than the standard one, but at least this is a result of choice and not a mere limitation.

God is good at that. He gives us choices, shows us things in different lights, from differing angles, even with different vision. Take off or put on your glasses and look at the world—it changes things. What a visual treat!

It’s not always easy to look at a limitation as an opportunity. I know that as I age I have to force myself to thank God for the parts that still work. Maybe I should stop and think a little more closely about what the parts that don’t work do for me, such as my nearsighted eyes, instead of always thinking in the negative. He works all things together for good in the lives of those who believe and obey Him, so even bad vision is a benefit when it’s used to advantage and appreciated for what it is.

Isaiah 66:2-4: A Christian (Who is an Artist)

2007-01-03T15:31:00.001-07:00

Have you ever made a sacrifice to God and later found out it was one in which He didn’t delight? I started to think about that today as I read this section in the book of Isaiah. The Lord is speaking of sacrifices that He finds abominable—human sacrifice among them—but I stopped short when I reached this verse, “…And chose that in which I do not delight.” People were going about the rituals of the day with a laissez-faire attitude, not a heart level gift to God. I want to delight God, don’t you? I’m not planning any human sacrifices, so I don’t think God will find what I give abominable, but I want what I give Him to be good and pleasing.

Okay, I know that Jesus gave Himself as the perfect sacrifice for all my sin, so I don’t have any debt to God that way, but this bit of verse in Isaiah stopped me cold because the Lord pretty clearly and succinctly defined what He wants up in verse 2, “But on this one will I look: on him who is poor and of a contrite spirit, and who trembles at My word.” Clearly the point here is that it isn’t just what you do but how you do it that matters to God. It would be fairly easy to stop there and just think, oh good, I’m okay. I love God. Right?

As an artist, early on I decided that my artwork was to be sacrificed to God. (I hope you see my problem in that sentence alone. It’s there, trust me.) At first I thought it meant my paintings had to look a certain way. If I say “Christian art” to you, what kind of look pops into your mind? Is it figurative work illustrating great stories from the Bible? Usually we think of narratives, not paintings of the landscape. There are certainly some schools of art that have tried to paint ‘moral landscapes’, but I wanted my artwork to show the incredible and overwhelming change that had occurred in my life. I began by writing Scriptural phrases in charcoal beneath my paintings. As I sketched I would scribble words like ‘grace’ or ‘sanctification’ or other godly sounding, high-falutin’ words on my paper, but as I applied pastel to the surface the words were obscured. That didn’t make much impact. I then decided that the look of my work wouldn’t change but I could surely make an impact by witnessing to my faith in what I said, particularly on my web page. I redeemed the work by telling people my beliefs. (Maybe you can see the flaw here, too.) That was good, of course, but I still felt dissatisfied. I wanted what God was doing in my life to show in my work. I decided to try to paint figurative work, which has so far met with modest success. I still find that goal interesting and provocative, but it hasn't made any real impact on my painting, and hasn’t resulted in more overtly Christian looking artwork.

I asked myself over and over why I felt so dissatisfied with what my artwork expressed, why the deep feelings and life-changing truths never seemed to show in my paintings. Art is supposed to be an expression of the soul of the artist, so why was this such a disappointing and unsatisfactory spot in my life? God was making His mark in so many other ways, using me to speak about my beliefs, to minister to women, even to help bring others to a newfound faith, but my art seemed to be an ‘also-ran’, tacked on to the wagon of my life like a rope trailing behind.

I can’t tell you when the realization dawned. There’s no one ‘ah ha’ moment to be shared. It’s just that over the years God has slowly explained this to me through many avenues. Don’t be too shocked when I tell you that my artwork is not the expression of my soul, as I was taught to think. That’s far too narcissistic for a Christian. But one day on the radio a teacher I admire and respect, Haddon Robinson, explained quite clearly something that summed up my understanding. He said that the word Christian should not be used as an adjective but as a noun. Not Christian artist, not Christian prefacing anything—instead it must be ‘a Christian who is…’ The object is to be a Christian, not to be something modified by being a Christian. Do you see the difference here? I’m a Christian who is an artist. He is a Christian who is a businessman. She is a Christian who is a mom. You are a Christian who is…anything you are.

So now you see the problem in those two sentences I pointed out above. I was, in essence, trying to tack Christian onto my work as an adjective, rather than realizing that as a Christian all I do is from and through Him. “But on this one will I look: on him who is poor and of a contrite spirit, and who trembles at My word.” As a worshiper I come with nothing, understanding that what I have and what I bring to God is nothing. So you see, I was trying to make my art into a sacrifice to God by endowing it with something visible, but in so doing I was the one defining the sacrifice. God, on the other hand, wants all I do, including my art, to be done with a heart for Him. It’s easy to define what I’m willing to sacrifice to God, yet entirely miss what He’s asking of me.

God refuses to be a modifier to my life. He insists on being the sole motivator. Therefore all I am is His, including what I do.

I’m a Christian (who is an artist) and that clearly delights God!

John 5:1-15 Jesus Ups the Ante

2006-12-30T10:19:00.001-07:00

In today’s study I noticed something interesting. Jesus has done three miracles, starting when He instantly turned water into wine at a wedding, then healed a sick boy with a word, and now healing the paralyzed man at the Pool of Bethesda. It’s this miracle that ups the ante, however. Let me explain…

Water is turned into wine all the time. Oh, I’m not discounting the miracle that Jesus did! It was bona fide, I have no doubt. But stay with me here, water gets turned into wine all the time. It’s not instant (unless instant wine is a new product I’ve missed—just add water—?) It takes a while for the natural process to transpire, controlled carefully by men, but in essence water on the vineyard grows the grapes, men ferment them, and in time that water is turned into wine.

Likewise, although I refuse to discount the miracle Jesus did in curing the son of the nobleman, the fact remains that kids who are sick, even dying, get better every day. I agree with you, if at the moment you’re noting that God is the one who heals them ‘naturally’! And I’m not trying to explain things away with some form of justification, the way people who doubt the miracles try to do. No, I just want you to notice something about the healing at Bethesda.

This guy sitting by the pool is a cripple. He’s been paralyzed—a word literally meaning ‘withered’—for thirty-eight years. I don’t know how old you are, but I’m old enough that I can subtract thirty-eight from my age and recognize that he’s been paralyzed long enough that folks know it. I don’t think there are too many people walking past him wondering if he’s a shyster, ripping off the insurance company by secretly walking on the weekends… He’s not an unknown quantity.

He’s sitting by this pool that’s supposedly a place people come to be healed. I have to take a short detour here, if you don’t mind. Some of the youngsters from our church went to a little town in Macedonia on a mission trip. While there a few of them were treated to a visit to the local ‘swimming pool.’ It turned out that it was a place that had been there for generations and was known as having curative waters. The kids described a few of the people who hung out in the naturally warm waters, and even though they were only visiting there for an afternoon the kids knew without a doubt that these people were crippled. The local townsfolk were no doubt even better acquainted with who they were and what infirmities they suffered. Likewise, the man at the Pool of Bethesda was clearly known to be a cripple.

So what? Well, let’s think about this. The two previous miracles are ones that people at the time might have tried to explain away, just as people have for the intervening two-thousand years. They didn’t have CNN and film at 11:00, they only had talk. News travels fast, especially when people are being healed, but making miraculous wine was a fun treat to talk about, and the nobleman’s son being healed was probably a curiosity, but this rich guy had access to some good medical care… I bet people were raising eyebrows all over the place, thinking some medicine given to the kid took effect about the same time Jesus said the word. Coincidence, that’s all. Yet here comes the man from the Pool at Bethesda walking past them. How do you scoff at that? Fact is, in thirty-eight years he hasn’t strolled past. He hasn’t done more than be carried, or at best lugged his body laboriously along on crutches. This is one of those undeniable, in-your-face miracles.

Fact is, water turns to wine every day and sick kids get better. Folks know that. It isn’t until Jesus heals this well-known crippled man that people begin to recognize that He does far more than the passage of time or natural processes do. This miraculous healing is an undeniable demonstration of His power!

Mark 6:35-44, 7:24-30: God's Leftovers

2006-12-28T21:40:00.001-07:00

I have so many bowls and little plastic containers of leftovers in my refrigerator that they get shoved to the back of the shelves only to be retrieved and thrown out when they have a coating of greenish fuzz. My wealth is almost embarrassing. I’ve been known to mutter that what I was throwing out could feed a third-world village for days. So when I came upon the idea of God’s leftovers as I read the gospel of Mark, I couldn’t help but think of my refrigerator, jam-packed with leftovers this time of year.

After Mark tells us about Jesus feeding 5,000 people, which may have been as many as 15,000 people if you include women and children, we’re told, “they took up twelve baskets full of fragments and of the fish.” That’s a lot of leftovers, especially when you consider that Jesus began with five loaves and two fish. He filled all these people to the point of bursting, a feast of bread and fish. There was more left over at the end than there was when He started! Probably even the birds and bugs were satisfied with bits of fish and crumbs of bread too small to pick up.

Soon we read the story of the Syro-Phoenician woman whose daughter was possessed by a demon. When she hears that Jesus is in town she follows Him, persistently begging for His help. He finally stops and tells her “it is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the little dogs.” He’s comparing her need to that of pet puppies begging for scraps? Yup.

I don't know about you, but I might have gotten plenty mad and stalked off at that point, but Jesus knows his audience. The woman’s response is most remarkable. She says, “… even the little dogs under the table eat from the children’s crumbs.” Leftovers. She’s more than willing to take God’s leftovers.

The ‘crumbs’ of the grace of God are sufficient. His leftovers are not stuffed in the back of the refrigerator to rot. They’re out there for people to have, to ask for and receive. He will feed the hungry with all that He has made, heal a child, comfort a mother in need and satisfy anyone who pursues Him.

With God the leftovers are abundance itself!

John 4:43-53 Faith Healer

2006-12-26T13:58:00.001-07:00

Today in my study I stand in a milling crowd, alongside a desperate father who approaches Jesus for help. His son is dying…

Imagine what this man is going through. He’s a bigwig, a suited corporate type who works in the capital, a rising star in business, about to make his big break, but right now he just feels like a little cog being ground to dust in the wheels of life. He’s taken his son to every high-powered specialist around but the boy is past hope, slowly dying. This man has heard about Jesus’ reputation and he figures, why not? What does he have to lose? He might as well see if this guy can help. He won’t be the first desperate father to go to some faith healer…

He pulls into Cana just about the time Jesus arrives in the town where they say He turned water into wine at a wedding feast. There’s a crowd of people that have heard all about the things Jesus did up in Jerusalem at the Passover. Miracles, people say. They’re hanging around hoping for a good show. Maybe more wine…free! The crowd swirls around the itinerant star. The exec is surrounded by riff-raff, no one paying much attention to his shiny shoes or Italian suit. He finally makes his way up to Jesus and sees an ordinary looking man, clothing stained from travel. Desperate, he finds himself caught up by the mood of the crowd, all looking for something. He reaches out his hand and begs Jesus for help. All he can think of is that his boy is already near death and he has to do something to save him.

Jesus speaks but his words stun the man by His side. Addressing the milling crowd He says, “Won’t you people believe in Me unless I do something miraculous?” The frightened father, focused again on his need, begs Jesus, “Come with me before my son dies!” Yet in his mind Jesus’ words start him thinking. What does he believe in? If Jesus could do this… How? What would that mean?

Suddenly Jesus turns to him, looking him right in the eye, and speaks simple words that change everything. “Go back home; your son lives.” The father’s heart hits his throat, his mind racing. There’s something happening here that he never expected. He looks for that one long moment into the eyes of this man. As He turns away, the father senses a shift taking place inside. He believes this guy. Maybe it’s the way He quietly assures him, or maybe it’s that glance touching his heart, but whatever it is he suddenly knows that his boy is okay. Faith, long relegated to religious form alone, is born anew.

The crowd envelopes Jesus, swirling noisily away as the man slowly turns, his mind still reeling, to head back home to Capernaum. The long journey gives him time to ponder things. “What just happened here?’ he wonders as he continues into the afternoon. A knot of happy men approach but he’s so deep in thought he hardly notices them until he recognizes one of his own men loping towards him, waving his hand and yelling. Joy paints his face as he shouts, “Your son lives!” At that moment the father knows, with a certainty that’s more than mere optimism, that this Man who looked him in the eye and spoke the words of hope, this Jesus, is God Himself! It remains a mere formality to ask the men for the details. “When did he get better?” he asks, breathlessly. He’s not even surprised to hear them mention the exact time when Jesus spoke those welcome words. His heart swells, full of gratitude, love and faith. He knows he must put his arms around his beloved son who lives, really lives. He must tell him of the Man—the God—who healed him.

“And he himself believed, and his whole household.” (John 4:53)

2 Timothy 1:7 His Prevailing Wind

2006-12-23T16:25:00.003-07:00

This morning's verse was:

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

Have you ever experienced that spirit of fear? It's a dark wind blowing through your heart, freezing your soul. It might have been someone saying, "I don't love you any more." It could have been the dreaded diagnosis. Or maybe you received a late night call asking if you were the next of kin. There was that moment when your heart teetered between hope and dread, but the wind of fear pushed you over the edge in to the dark chasm where hope seemed to vanish. This fear takes you into the environs of hell, seemingly distant from the God of hope. Rest assured He's not distant. Remember, God has not given us a spirit of fear... Yet it may seem that way as you walk out of the house, leave the hospital room, or drive to the police station. You feel broken, full of dread and fear, but as you wend your way out into the unknown future where the wind of fear tries to keep you pinned down, remember that God has given us a spirit of power and of love and of a sound mind. Let God's breath blow you back on course.

It's Jesus, Peter's Master, giving you the power to love in the face of painful words that cut to the heart, denying you love.

It's Jesus standing behind you, His nail-pierced hand on your shoulder, as you face the pain.

Jesus' hot tears mingle with yours at the morgue, the funeral and the grave.

Only the dynamic force of His Word will restore you. Only agape love, sacrificing self to face pain, will sustain you. Only God-given discipline, grown out of miles walked with Him, will allow you to face the lonely future, knowing He is there. And He is. He's the wind at your back, blowing you out of darkness, blowing the cold dread away, replacing it with power, love and self-control.

Like a bell sounding in the distance, muffled by the storm, come words rung from the apostle Paul's life, who was surely buffeted by the wind of fear. To your quailing heart he says, 'God is there.' God is always the next breath blowing into your heart, the prevailing wind that puts you back on course.
For this reason I also suffer these things; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day. (verse 12)

Have you ever experienced the spirit of power? The spirit of love? The spirit of a sound mind? This wind, this spirit of hope, blows away the fear that seeks to pin you down to a hopeless world, wracked with anger, disfigured by pain, achingly isolated. With belief--faith--comes the fresh, stiff breeze blowing you into the future, along the path He blazed for you. He was unloved, bleeding, deserted, yet His path restores you to the reality of life in the light, where you will stand with Him throughout life's storms.

_____

I painted a portrait of my great-grandfather, known only to me as Grandpa Klopp, a man I've heard my mother reminisce about all her life. I know very little about him. The legacy he left is but a whisper to me. A man of faith. A loving father and grandfather. He was a minister, married twice, and father to a little girl who grew up without her mother. He crossed the country in a wagon and built a sod house on the barren plains of Nebraska. His life was accompanied by tragedy: a young wife dying; a daughter who walked away from the faith in which she was raised to follow the vagaries of Mary Baker Eddy, taking her five children with her. Yet he was greatly loved by his granddaughter, my mother.

I see traces of his face in my uncle and cousin, and wonder where his DNA resides in me. I like his eyes. Maybe a bit of my vision came from him. Maybe he prayed for me and God answered his prayer. I hope to meet him in heaven. Then we can talk about the storms of fear the blew counter to the wind of God and how we both withstood them, faithfully committed to the Lord Jesus Christ until the day we each met Him face-to-face. It will be a good day.

John 4:23-24 Authentic Worship

2006-12-22T09:21:00.001-07:00

This morning I read this verse...

"But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth; for the Father is seeking such to worship Him. God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.”

It got me started thinking about what constitutes authentic worship. Jesus said we must worship "in spirit and truth", which is a phrase that rolls off my tongue easily enough, but what does it mean? How do I express worship each day?

He shows us two components to worship: spirit (not capital-s Spirit but lower case-s spirit, as in the spirit of man) and truth. I think Jesus is telling us we have to come to worship from the heart, not out of religiosity. If you know the passage this verse is from, you recognize that the Samaritan woman Jesus was talking to raised a religious argument, clearly a diversionary tactic meant to take the spotlight off of her questionable moral life, but Jesus hones in on the bare-bones description of what constitutes authentic worship instead of engaging in a discussion of where and how to worship. He doesn't let her get away with the diversion. He uses it like a ballistic missile aimed at her real need to understand what worship must be.

I think I understand what it means to worship in spirit, but I started to wonder what worship in truth means. I meditated on truth for a while and remembered that Jesus says, "I am..the truth..." in John 14:6. But what does it mean for a man, albeit God, to be THE truth? He tells the Samaritan woman, "Salvation is of the Jews" in verse 22. The Jews were the keepers of the Old Testament Scriptures that repeatedly predict the coming of Messiah, the Christ. That's the truth He refers to. It begins to dawn on me: Jesus is the truth. Jesus is the Messiah. I must worship Jesus to worship authentically!

But what does this mean in terms of my daily worship? I often find that this incredibly beautiful world He made brings me to my knees metaphorically--only because I'm so often in the car and unable to literally bow. I've been inspired (which means breathed into, the breath of God) by the splendor of nature since before being saved, but I have to tell you that the quality of that worship experience is a million-fold since coming to know Jesus personally.

I guess it's a little like personally knowing the author of a book. I have a friend, Pat, who writes novels. Before knowing her I might have read one of her manuscripts for the plot, the entertainment factor, or to solve a mystery, but knowing her I looked for little bits of her personality, evidence of our relationship, special insights on what we share. Knowing her makes the novel more personally involving, just as knowing Christ makes nature an ever-recurring affirmation of His character, beauty, love, provision, and so on.

My paintings are a form of worship, in that I express as well as I can the character of the Creator in my little recreation. Yesterday I completed a painting I began in my classroom a few weeks back. I've been exploring the color gray for several years now, and in one of my classes I attempt to show the incredible beauty of gray. I make my grays with a triad of colors, commonly using purple, orange and green. That makes a gray that's comprised of every color on the primary-secondary color wheel. Using ALL the colors makes for lively and vivid grays.

So you see that my painting, Gray Storm (11x17"on Wallis paper), has a lot of color in it! As I stood next to my woodstove and completed this painting I spent a lot of time praying, not about the place or even the painting. I was engaged in prayer for my husband, who was out ministering on the street to homeless people, and for my son, who had called me with an urgent prayer need. That's how the Lord often uses me! I consider it worship, in spirit and truth.

Isaiah 61:10- Clothed in Salvation

2006-12-21T11:06:00.001-07:00

This morning I studied a wonderful verse:

I will greatly rejoice in the LORD,
My soul shall be joyful in my God;
For He has clothed me with the garments of salvation,
He has covered me with the robe of righteousness,
As a bridegroom decks himself with ornaments,
And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

I can't help but think of the painting by Klimt called The Kiss:

Jesus has given me the unmerited gift of eternity with Him. It's this robe of righteousness that only He can give, and I'm sure it's far more beautiful than I can imagine or ever paint, but if I could it would be dazzlingly lovely, shining and fair, bright and beautiful beyond compare. He gives it to me, as He offers it to anyone who asks, out of His agape, the sacrificial love of God, enfolding me in an embrace that is far more precious than any other. Amazingly, He has offered me HIS righteousness to cover my lack, like the robe that a Hebrew bride wears, symbolizing her new role as part of the life of her husband, covered by his name.

Lately I've been studying the armor of God in Ephesisans 6, asking to understand more about what that means. Oddly, although it pictures the garb of a soldier, I can also see it as a gorgeous garment of salvation. Picture the parts:

the belt of truth
the breastplate of righteousness
the shoes of the preparation of the gospel of peace
the shield of faith
the helmet of salvation
the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God

I'm surrounded by truth, which holds all together. My heart is covered with His perfection. I walk on the solid foundation of Jesus Christ's peace. Faith protects me. My mind is covered, knowing He has done the work of salvation. And His Spirit pierces with the word, raising others to new life.

What could be more romantic than to be enclosed in a loving embrace, like the woman in Klimt's painting, only to find that it is God Himself covering me with His robe? Encased in His armor, I am IN CHRIST, and so I see it as a robe that's the loving gift of my Savior and Lord, who loves me as His bride.

Painting and obedience to Christ

2006-12-20T21:46:00.002-07:00

"My career has been a journey in search of beauty and truth, which come from God. I seek to show His beauty, power and majesty, and my serenity and joy, however imperfectly translated through the talent He has given me. As I paint, I look forward to daily lessons from my Master, Jesus Christ. I hope that you will see Him shining through the work you see here."

Today I begin my web log, which I hope will be one way to keep myself accountable and transparent. Here you see one of my pastel paintings, Smoldering Moment. I really, really struggled with this one! It was twice as large and had a blue sky until one afternoon when I just lost it and decided it would either become a sunset or I'd wipe it out completely! As you can see, the sunset option worked, but I lopped the top half off in the process. I still struggle with painting, even after 25 years as an artist. It's a worthy struggle--but not the most important one in my life, trust me.

Painting is a snap compared to obedience to Christ, at least sometimes. The painting above is sort of loosely symbolic to me. There are days when my life in the Lord seems to need something changed, the way I changed the blue sky to orange and yellow. Yet I know that the reality is that I'm the blue sky or the orange sky or the clouds in God's picture, so it isn't that I need to change myself, but I have to be willing to let Him do the changing. Oh, I know, He will change me no matter what, but the means of change can be vastly different depending on my receptiveness and readiness to bend to Jesus. I'd rather be a blue sky gently wiped away and repainted to orange, than have to go through having the top half lopped off, in a manner of speaking!