Blue.
Splat…
Splat…
Red.
Splat…
A vibrant picture with each stroke of my brush, as the image
came alive with each splatter of paint. As a child I’d love to paint and I’d be
so critical of the outcome of my canvas. With time, I’ve discovered that my strokes
couldn’t only be mine. It didn’t help that my younger brothers would add
lines and re-create the picture pinned on the fridge.
Instead, I now marvel
at the countless strokes upon my canvas that are from those whom have been a part
of my life, some for a period of time and others for a lifetime. Regardless of the duration of their strokes
upon my canvas, each layer is built with a multitude of colours and it has
shaped and created who I am today.
If I consider some of the people in my life, their own
canvas, this is what I admire about their specific brush strokes.
v
His canvas is rough, even edgy, yet if you take
time to look you’ll grasp that he is soft and gracious. He has been my constant
inspiration and his words hold such power, “I am proud of you.”
v
Her canvas is bright, even exquisite, yet if you
spend time to look you’ll understand her heart for the lost and the broken. She
has challenged me to be intentional and value friendship as a gift.
v
His canvas is unknown, bare and blank, yet if you
take time to look you’ll realize he is searching and growing in his
identity. He has frequently asked
questions and recently acknowledge, “let’s be bold and believe with such hope even
when it cannot be seen!”
v
Her canvas is torn, such deep hurt is woven
into the very fibres of the painting, yet if you take time to look you’ll sense
a persistent faith to keep moving forward.
She has taught me to release the past and fully let go, as she daily declares
with me, “the best is yet to come!”
Recently, I can’t help but ponder that life isn’t
necessarily the way I envisioned my canvas becoming. In my canvas are strokes
of disappointment, hurt, and rejection, yet embedded are rich strokes of joy, hope,
dreams, love, and even laughter! Truthfully, I believe God is orchestrating
bold strokes of his very character through rustic reds, calm blues, and even
brilliant oranges to display his bigger plan for my canvas.
Today, I sat and said, “God,
I don’t feel like painting anymore. I need to let go. Can you just do the
painting today?” In all honestly, it’s time that I let go, release being critical
of my canvas, as I allow God to add his brush strokes.
Will you join me and let Him be the ultimate painter?
Charlene
No comments:
Post a Comment