I have a corner in our back room devoted to my personal artistic mess. Lately it has been just a mess. I have wanted to paint but have not felt any inspiration, and even when I feel motivated enough to try anyway, my stuff comes out all wonky.
Chris and I also shared the unique experience of having Christmas just the two of us this year... well three, Pippin is still alive. We got up and made waffles, eggs & bacon. Opened our presents to each other, went on a winter walk, got a visit from some friends and spent the rest of the day watching movies and hanging out. It didn't feel like Christmas, not in the sense of what my idea of Christmas is, chaos, noise, impish delight, and extended family. But it was Christmas, and I had been praying that Christmas would be less about the other stuff and more about the point.
So back to my art, it doesn't feel like art.... I mean there are some moments when I think it's coming along, and then realize if anyone else saw it they would ask if I was cleaning my brushes. So tonight I made myself sit down and paint (sorry, NO pictures to follow). I spread a blanket out in the corner, forced some crimson, ocher, sage green, and a few creative sounding blues onto my disposable palate and started painting the background of a piece I have in my head, 'let there be light'. As I was trying to paint 'the beginning', the darkness- I liked the idea of swirling the reddish brownish greenish blues toward and away from my point of light. As if the darkness was fleeing the light.
{And honestly, as I try to put my thoughts together I wonder how people blog every day, and how people do that well.}
I see this collage in my head of thoughts. Light causing darkness to flee. The creation of the universe, the hope of Christ's light in my own darkness. And, of course there are a dozen other things in the collage too. But as I'm journeying along in ministry, I'm not especially overwhelmed by things feeling the way i think they should feel. It doesn't make them less real.
So I am thankful for worship songs committed to memory, which, when they come on pandora have me singing lovely harmonies and remembering a time when I 'felt' his faithfulness more than i do right now. He is still faithful, he is still near. I hold tightly to the idea that Jesus likely did not feel a spiritual high, or joy as I like to define joy, when he took my sin naked on a cross.
Despised for me, rejected for me. Drawing me first, loving me completely.
