A line from one of my favorite old hymns. I firmly believe we can, and ought to, worship wherever we are. But I also know that humans are creatures of habit, and like Hobbits, we like life to continue on calmly, in comforting orderliness and peace. That has not been the path that the Lord has designed for me. I rarely have gotten to stay in one home, or even one city, for many years at a time. The times that we have found churches with like-mindedness and freedom of worship in Holy Spirit have been cherished, and mourned when we had to leave them. Our life situations have changed so often that there does not appear to be a theme, or a constant... anything, except the Lord and our family. So, there has always been love. But in my heart as a young woman, my expectations included finding a man to love and living in one place with him until we attained a great, white-headed, and comfortable old age, in a home our grandchildren could return to and show their tiny ones the swing they played on as children. Instead, our grown children remind each other of one house or another, one school or another, one group of friends or teammates, or another.
The constant has been our love of Jesus, and our faithful desire to follow where He leads us and to do His will. This past June, we accepted a full-time pastorate in a rural part of the Northern Neck of Virginia. Three small churches Ken preaches in every Sunday. Three small groups of precious people living out their lives in community, together, holding to their traditions and their place, even though most of their children have grown and gone away. We are not "born here"s, or even "come here"s. We are "sent here"s. We are pouring out what the Lord has given us, sharing our lessons and experiences and love with people who have had perhaps several-too-many "sent here" pastors who came and went.
In the first six months of our being here, my focus has been on our gravely ill daughter; on making the main floor of the Parsonage a welcoming, warm, light-filled place; and on fitting into the ministry. Our basement here is still chockablock with unpacked and half-unpacked boxes. (Where can I possibly put it all?) The basement office and conference room, which will eventually be my art space, are still cluttered with church office things and more half-unpacked boxes. It makes creating art more difficult, being in the midst of chaos and all.
So I continually ask my Lord Jesus what I need to be doing. What are my purposes here? What are His priorities for me? What is this time to produce? What is foremost? Artist? Prophet? Intercessor? Teacher? Warrior? Friend? Mother? Wife? Pastor's wife??? Daughter; Grandmother; Sister......?
And softly He answers, "Yes."
I admit that I groan against the constraints on my time; the limitations; the obligations, the difficulties. It satisfies my soul to be lost in the act of creating a painting, or the rapture of worship and warfare.
But, O Joy, He has given me two weekly Bible Study groups to teach and lead; to share with and to listen to; to laugh and cry with; to walk with into their own personal discoveries of our Most High and Most Amazing God! A dear friend prophesied over me just today that I am using different brushes to paint God's colors on hearts instead of canvases! I wept. Such a simple revelation. So profound. And I am grateful. There is always enough time for God's purposes for us to be accomplished if we are listening. I'm not done painting, this is only a blink of an eye in eternity.
These are very traditional United Methodist Churches, in picturesque white buildings with lovely stained glass windows and truly worn (but well kept) wooden pews. Each has a cemetery with all the beloved who have gone on before us snuggled up right beside the church. These aren't Charismatic folks... yet. My acts of worship are conformed to theirs, and my dancing and prayer language are done silently in my heart or at home. I get lost in worship here. I find I quite often stand at the back of the mown portion of the Parsonage property, next to my first compost pile, and with sun and wind on my face, thank God for bringing us here. I soak in His affirmation. We are loved, and we love these precious ones. Our circumstances may look diminished to those whose standards are only material. It doesn't matter. He has freed me from that. As I stand at the edge of that harvested cornfield and watch the sky turn salmon and baby pink and dusky indigo, I know that Holy Spirit is using my life in Christ to adorn the hearts of other believers with new delight in God, a new and deeper relationship with His Son Jesus, and the gentle lapping of the water of Holy Spirit like warm ocean water at their bare toes. And like delighted children, they are laughing.
It makes it ok to be worshipping Him in the garden, in Holy Spirit, alone.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Friday, January 16, 2015
My Blue Teddy Bear
A friend recently sent me a cartoon on my cell phone. It was of Jesus down on one knee, holding a huge blue teddy bear behind his back, and a small child in front of Him saying, "But I really love it, God." I admit, I didn't like it. It made me upset. It felt sort of mean of Him.
It is difficult enough to go through loss of any kind, without having to be spiritually mature enough to see (and graciously accept) that our Lord will sometimes take things from us that we dearly love and feel we need.
I shouldn't have disliked that cartoon. Years ago, Holy Spirit showed me something very similar in a vision. I'm older than dirt, so when I was little, we took cigar boxes to school to keep our pencils, eraser, and rulers in at our desks. We also used them to keep small things that were precious to us, like a little treasure chest. In this vision, I ran up to God the Father with my little box, all excited to show Him my small treasures. He sat me on His lap and put one arm around me, and we began to go through my precious things one by one. He would smile and exclaim over some, and be happy with me about them. But some, like a random two-edged razor blade I'd found, He would gently pick up and say, "This isn't safe for you, daughter. I'll keep this one." And that vision made me feel secure, and protected, and it was ok with me.
But this little cartoon really got to me. Our precious family friend, Lilly, just had to be put down, early on New Year's day, no less. We are all deeply grieving her loss. And our youngest daughter, who lives with us, is disabled by disease, and may not live out the years and wonderful life we have all expected for her.
So, I'm working on seizing the day, and cherishing the moments, when I am not too despondent or too filled with grief. But if we listen and keep our spiritual eyes open, there are always encouragements, even in the darkest of times. And I am learning to let go.
We have been blessed to have a fully furnished living room, which we use constantly as our family room, and have had a fully furnished "parlor" which I called the Morning Room. This room was the one I intended to use for my personal, in-home art studio, after the Olde Towne Art Studio closed in December of 2012. But somehow I had a very, very hard time letting go of the furniture and decor I had so lovingly collected to go together in that room. I tried unsuccessfully to sell it several times, and couldn't bear the thought of giving it away. But when I was finally ready and God knew He could speak to me about it, and I would listen and obey, I put a very small price on it and prayed for the right person/people to come get it. It sold within days.
My best friend here came and helped me set up my new studio, and we prayed over it and blessed it and sanctified it to His glorious Presence and Use. I have a station for doing watercolors and flat work; and one for sewing (or other flat work); and an easel set up for painting; my Mother's rocker for praying and reading in; and two storage units; as well as my 300-CD player for worship music. I picked a variety of styles and subject matter from among my paintings for my students to see and for me to enjoy, and hung them all over the walls. And the amount of money paid for the furniture I hadn't been able to let go of? It is just the right amount to put French doors on my studio to keep this room sanctified for only its intended use.
So I was, after a long time of procrastination and stubborn resistence, able to let go of my Blue Teddy Bear and God gave me something so much better for me for this season of my life. And isn't that the point? What is the thing in your life that is symbolized by that bear? Can you let Him have it, yet?
It is difficult enough to go through loss of any kind, without having to be spiritually mature enough to see (and graciously accept) that our Lord will sometimes take things from us that we dearly love and feel we need.
I shouldn't have disliked that cartoon. Years ago, Holy Spirit showed me something very similar in a vision. I'm older than dirt, so when I was little, we took cigar boxes to school to keep our pencils, eraser, and rulers in at our desks. We also used them to keep small things that were precious to us, like a little treasure chest. In this vision, I ran up to God the Father with my little box, all excited to show Him my small treasures. He sat me on His lap and put one arm around me, and we began to go through my precious things one by one. He would smile and exclaim over some, and be happy with me about them. But some, like a random two-edged razor blade I'd found, He would gently pick up and say, "This isn't safe for you, daughter. I'll keep this one." And that vision made me feel secure, and protected, and it was ok with me.
But this little cartoon really got to me. Our precious family friend, Lilly, just had to be put down, early on New Year's day, no less. We are all deeply grieving her loss. And our youngest daughter, who lives with us, is disabled by disease, and may not live out the years and wonderful life we have all expected for her.
So, I'm working on seizing the day, and cherishing the moments, when I am not too despondent or too filled with grief. But if we listen and keep our spiritual eyes open, there are always encouragements, even in the darkest of times. And I am learning to let go.
We have been blessed to have a fully furnished living room, which we use constantly as our family room, and have had a fully furnished "parlor" which I called the Morning Room. This room was the one I intended to use for my personal, in-home art studio, after the Olde Towne Art Studio closed in December of 2012. But somehow I had a very, very hard time letting go of the furniture and decor I had so lovingly collected to go together in that room. I tried unsuccessfully to sell it several times, and couldn't bear the thought of giving it away. But when I was finally ready and God knew He could speak to me about it, and I would listen and obey, I put a very small price on it and prayed for the right person/people to come get it. It sold within days.
My best friend here came and helped me set up my new studio, and we prayed over it and blessed it and sanctified it to His glorious Presence and Use. I have a station for doing watercolors and flat work; and one for sewing (or other flat work); and an easel set up for painting; my Mother's rocker for praying and reading in; and two storage units; as well as my 300-CD player for worship music. I picked a variety of styles and subject matter from among my paintings for my students to see and for me to enjoy, and hung them all over the walls. And the amount of money paid for the furniture I hadn't been able to let go of? It is just the right amount to put French doors on my studio to keep this room sanctified for only its intended use.
So I was, after a long time of procrastination and stubborn resistence, able to let go of my Blue Teddy Bear and God gave me something so much better for me for this season of my life. And isn't that the point? What is the thing in your life that is symbolized by that bear? Can you let Him have it, yet?
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
About This Blog
Hi! If you are looking at this blog for the first time, I hope you will scroll down to the first posting I did in January and read them from the bottom of the blog to the latest at the top. So many people have asked me about my testimony that I created this particular blog to share my journey as an artist and Christ follower, painting with Holy Spirit's leading and not just my own imagination and random inspirations. My deepest heart's desire is to hear God and paint at His direction and inspiration, to be a blessing to Him and to other people. I want His Presence and anointing to fill me as I paint, to be embued into each painting, and to bless those who experience the paintings. I feel that each one has a "home" somewhere, and hope that the exact right person for each one 'finds' it and takes it home. And I pray that His power and anointing on each painting will stay with it as a continual blessing in the home that adopts it! Yes, I said 'adopts'; you know that an artist's creations are all his/her babies, right?
I hope you will check out my other works on my website and blogs listed at the right side of this page. If you come to visit, or live in, the Hampton Roads area of Virginia, I hope you will visit me at Olde Towne Art, 525 High Street.
Many blessings and a very Merry Christmas!
Sarah
I hope you will check out my other works on my website and blogs listed at the right side of this page. If you come to visit, or live in, the Hampton Roads area of Virginia, I hope you will visit me at Olde Towne Art, 525 High Street.
Many blessings and a very Merry Christmas!
Sarah
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Holy Spirit's always up to something!
I love that God will not let me put Him in a box, not ever, not of any kind! He keeps me on my toes, and away from complacency and cynicism. It's like sometimes I'm dozing off spiritually and He snaps His holy fingers in front of my face and says, "wake up, Sarah; I'm doing a new thing; do you not perceive it???"
Lately Holy Spirit has done something twice, so that I noticed it was a new thing. It can't be called a pattern, because then I'd get hold of it and try to make it happen again! So, I'll share these two things one at a time. The first new thing came about as a response to someone's random act of kindness toward me. One of the lovely older women at our church asked if she could give me all of her art supplies, since she'll never use them again. I received bags filled with paints and medium and canvas boards and brushes, etc. She knew that a lot of it wasn't good any more, but her generosity touched my heart. To thank her, I committed to do a painting for her, and asked her to tell me about her home and colors. The painting below is what came from her description and the Spirit's leading.
Lately Holy Spirit has done something twice, so that I noticed it was a new thing. It can't be called a pattern, because then I'd get hold of it and try to make it happen again! So, I'll share these two things one at a time. The first new thing came about as a response to someone's random act of kindness toward me. One of the lovely older women at our church asked if she could give me all of her art supplies, since she'll never use them again. I received bags filled with paints and medium and canvas boards and brushes, etc. She knew that a lot of it wasn't good any more, but her generosity touched my heart. To thank her, I committed to do a painting for her, and asked her to tell me about her home and colors. The painting below is what came from her description and the Spirit's leading.
Peony for Ernestine
oil on canvas
All she had told me is she likes pink and purple, and that she has Duncan Phyfe furniture. As it turned out, the colors I used in this painting are the exact colors in her living room! It's as if I'd had pictures of her upholstery and pillows to match to my palette!!!
This God-incidence might have gone by with just smiles and soft chuckles except that He did something like it again! In between my more exacting angel paintings, I took a break and only prayed and painted from my imagination. I envisioned a group of more abstract angels worshipping God together, en masse and without faces or much to identify them except slight variations in color. I also was excited about using some of the gold foil I've had for a while, and used it for the entire background, painting some darker hues into it for interest. This is what came about as I prayed and painted:
Worship
oil and gold foil on canvas
The evening I decided I thought possibly perhaps it might be finished and ready to sign, I took it off the easel. I intended to look at it afresh the next day and then sign it if I still thought it really was done. Within an hour of leaving the studio, I got a phone call asking how much it was, that someone wanted to buy it. I honestly thought it was a joke! It wasn't. The woman who bought this painting told me that these colors are the exact colors in her master bedroom, including the gold and the slightly more copper color I used on the edges of the gallery wrapped canvas; and right down to the few dark blue dots in one of the angel wings, which is the color of her accent pillows!!! Are you surprised yet? I was! I don't ever paint with this pallette. This entire composition came about through listening prayer and staying "in the zone" with Holy Spirit, all the way through to completion. The dark blue dots and the coppery edging were the last touches, just for her! Only I didn't know it was for her at all! It's as if the Lord gave me a commission to paint this for her without telling me it was for her. Now I think that's just too cool. Don't you?
Who knows what He's going to do next with my painting? I surely don't. But I hope I notice, because Holy Spirit is always up to something wonderful!!!
Monday, January 17, 2011
When God Paints
So far, I've shared some of the story of how God called me to paint when I clearly did not want to. I really can be very stubborn and have been working on being more malleable for a long time now... I figure if you've read my earlier blog postings here, you may want to actually see an example of what I've been sharing about... and I'm sorry to say I don't have a good picture of the painting of Korea that I described. Here is a picture of my painting titled The Verdict, and a link to its location on my website. On the site, you can scroll around and zoom in to see some of the "hidden" images.
The Verdict
Original is not for sale
24" x 30" giclee on canvas, wide black frame
$500 plus tax, S&H
To see the entire text description please visit:
I hope you enjoy seeing all the faces and skulls in it, and reading what God did to amaze me. If what is "in there" touches you, I hope you'll comment here or email me and let me know.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
If you like my blog
I'm such a newby! I just found my dashboard and it helped me to understand a little about being a "follower" of a blog. If you read one or more of my posts and like it (or them), please choose to become a follower of my postings. The box on the right under the picture of my amazing granddaughter and me is where you click to begin to "follow" my blog, and the new postings will show up on your dashboard. Pretty cool. And I want to see what you are posting, too, so if you have a blog, let me know, ok?
I am thinking I can also post my new stuff to my Facebook page, but I'm getting ahead of myself.... We'll see if I can figure that one out, too! :-)
I am thinking I can also post my new stuff to my Facebook page, but I'm getting ahead of myself.... We'll see if I can figure that one out, too! :-)
Monday, January 10, 2011
Becoming God's Apprentice
If you had asked me as I was growing up, or even as a young woman, who the greatest artist was who had ever lived, I would have answered you immediately, Michelangelo. Even today, having been exposed to so many artists with different styles and talents, he remains my first favorite and most highly esteemed. He was the reason that I chose not to paint, actually. I wanted someone like him to teach me, someone who could apprentice me as he did his students. What can I say? I'm a [recovering] perfectionist, and to me, his work came close to perfection! I figured if I couldn't learn to paint like he did, why paint at all? Perhaps I could excel at some other type of art.
When my Father God told me it was His plan for me to paint and upset all my plans, I could never have imagined what He had in store for me. After that short course mentioned in my first posting on this blog, He took me in hand Himself. He told me that He was going to teach me to paint by His Spirit. He said that if I wanted His anointing, that I must listen carefully, and only paint when He said to paint. He told me that when He asked me to stop, I was to clean up and put everything away. He said it would be a discipline. (Isn't that what I said to Him when I told Him why I didn't paint?) He put me in front of a canvas on an easel and had me pray for His direction. He would show me what to do, and I would do a little bit. Then He would ask me to stand back and look, and He would show me something that needed to be done. I'd approach the canvas and do it, rather hesitantly, I assure you! Sometimes, I would be using a color on a spot where He had asked me to put it, and I'd see another place I would like to use that same color. I'd ask Him if I could, and sometimes He would tell me no, not to touch that. He'd then show me where else I could put the color, or show me something else He wanted me to do. It was a time consuming and very slow process as I learned to hear Him direct me. There were many times I felt I was on a roll, and wanted to keep going when He had me stop. It was about experiencing the anointing, and only painting "under the anointing". When it lifted, I had to quit.
Are you disbelieving this? I know it's kinda crazy sounding. But this is truly what happened. I couldn't have Michelangelo, but I did have the Holy Spirit, and He had a plan. We had friends in California, where we lived at the time, and the wife of the couple had recently become an intercessor for Korea. While having dinner at their home, we discussed the possibility of getting my help decorating the living room and making it more colorful. They commissioned me to do a large painting to go over their couch, and I began to research Korea for ideas for it. I prayerfully put together a rough idea for the painting with real elements of the land and some real costumes for dancers, etc. The whole theme was to give her inspiration for her prayers. And as I began to paint, the Lord directed me which parts to paint in what order and what to leave alone; where to place the colors and how to use them. It began to take shape, but in a very different way than if I had simply forged ahead with my own way of thinking from the sketches I'd made.
This painting was so large that I had hung it on our living room wall to paint. One morning I was having my devotional time sitting on the couch across the room and happened to glance up. My breath caught. I couldn't believe my eyes, so I looked back down at my Bible. A few moments later I looked up again, and still saw what I'd thought I had seen the first time. I got up and went over to look more closely at the painting, and sure enough, it was still visible, not a trick of early morning lighting or of my faulty vision. I sat back down and began to ask God what in the world this meant. Our daughter came in the room and saw me looking dumbstruck. I asked her to look at the center of the painting and tell me if she noticed anything unusual. And she saw it, too. So, let me explain...
A lot of the painting was already in progress: a mountain range that was real; a waterfall that was real with an imagined pool at the bottom ... But right by that there was an area that I'd left blank at the direction of Holy Spirit. Only now there were soft brush strokes in that area that clearly defined a Jewish patriarch, head to toe - or hem of robe. His head was slightly cocked to the side, and all of his features were defined, including his beard. Everything was even in the right proportions! His arms were covered in his robe as if his hands were clasped at his pelvis, and with a few strokes, all the lighting of this figure was correct, as if planned and executed on purpose. Only I didn't even remember having that paint color on my brush, much less making these strokes! (Had I cleaned my brush there???) And God said to leave it alone! I was in shock. Why was there a Jewish patriarch in the almost exact center of a painting about Korea?
This began a time when other figures, faces and images began to show up in the painting. They just showed up! None of them was created intentionally by me. I would see them after they'd been created. Once in a while, my Teacher would let me make one a little clearer, but I never put any of them in on purpose or decided what any of these images should be. And to be crystal clear, any changes I made to faces I was shown were tiny ones. It wasn't that I saw a hint of a face and then fleshed it out. God was putting faces in this painting!!! And eventually, it began to make a little bit of sense to me. God was putting images of real people into the painting! Why those particular people, I had no idea. There was an African American with an obvious 70's afro hairstyle. There was a row of Catholic nuns. There was an Indian chief that Holy Spirit told me was a Cherokee. There was one face the Lord said was a New York cab driver. Huh? What was going on?
On the right side of the painting I had planned to have a curving path coming from the distant mountain range, with Korean dancers in all the glorious colors of their traditional dance costumes, to become the focus in the foreground. That wasn't to be! Holy Spirit kept me from painting them, over and over when I would point to the empty right side, and He would redirect me to another part of the painting. When He did begin to have me paint on the right side, it was to put in a grassy expanse that had a large green face 'under' it, like a Mother Earth image. The path was placed, but not defined, and as it began to take shape, He had me paint the 'road' coming forward from a mere tan path to stones at the middle distance which became figures almost like popsicle sticks up close, with mere slashes of color. These were Korean people coming to the baptismal pool at the feet of the Jewish patriarch. And in the end, they never got enough definition to make them appear "real". The "real" looking faces were those of the hidden images.
After it was finished, Holy Spirit told me that all the faces He had created in this painting for intercession were of actual people who had at one time in history, or were still, praying for Korea. Certainly, He did not mean they were the only ones. But these were the "real" people. The ones who were coming to baptism were not yet "real". They were becoming real.
And the Jewish patriarch? He was Father Abraham. You may say, he couldn't have known of Korea then. That's what I said. But he prayed for all the nations of his time, and those to come. Those he knew of, and those he trusted I AM to watch over about which he had no knowledge. He was a man of prayer. And one of the confirmations of this prayerfulness for others was that, as the painting came to completion, in the area of his robe covered arms there formed infants in utero, those yet to come. It looked very obviously that he was protecting them in his arms and the folds of his robe.
Abraham Lincoln's face is in there, too. There are so many images that I didn't even find them all, though I found dozens. God promised me that others would see ones He hadn't shown me yet. When the painting was hung in our friends' living room, their 7 year old son came in and instantly saw another one.
There is one more face I will tell you about here. At the bottom right of this canvas I painted a young Korean mother with her infant peacefully sleeping in a traditional wrapping on her back. She is large, as if you are looking over her shoulder at Korea in a photograph. Her face is turned toward the viewer and her expression is of deep distress. She is the call to intercession for her people, her country. The title of this painting is her question to the viewer: Will You Pray for Them?
I still love Michelangelo. Now I realize that I will not paint like him in my lifetime. It's ok. Because I am becoming God's apprentice. I am learning to let His Spirit live through me and breathe on my canvases. I've asked Jesus for His anointing, that what I paint will be for His purposes, not mine. I've asked Him to touch other people with what He helps me create, and to bless others by the presence of these paintings in their homes, offices, or wherever they go. Sometimes what He does through me is obvious, and sometimes I haven't got a clue. That's ok, too. He gets to be the Master and I get to be the disciple, the apprentice; and I'm becoming more and more useful as an instrument of His love in this world. :-)
When my Father God told me it was His plan for me to paint and upset all my plans, I could never have imagined what He had in store for me. After that short course mentioned in my first posting on this blog, He took me in hand Himself. He told me that He was going to teach me to paint by His Spirit. He said that if I wanted His anointing, that I must listen carefully, and only paint when He said to paint. He told me that when He asked me to stop, I was to clean up and put everything away. He said it would be a discipline. (Isn't that what I said to Him when I told Him why I didn't paint?) He put me in front of a canvas on an easel and had me pray for His direction. He would show me what to do, and I would do a little bit. Then He would ask me to stand back and look, and He would show me something that needed to be done. I'd approach the canvas and do it, rather hesitantly, I assure you! Sometimes, I would be using a color on a spot where He had asked me to put it, and I'd see another place I would like to use that same color. I'd ask Him if I could, and sometimes He would tell me no, not to touch that. He'd then show me where else I could put the color, or show me something else He wanted me to do. It was a time consuming and very slow process as I learned to hear Him direct me. There were many times I felt I was on a roll, and wanted to keep going when He had me stop. It was about experiencing the anointing, and only painting "under the anointing". When it lifted, I had to quit.
Are you disbelieving this? I know it's kinda crazy sounding. But this is truly what happened. I couldn't have Michelangelo, but I did have the Holy Spirit, and He had a plan. We had friends in California, where we lived at the time, and the wife of the couple had recently become an intercessor for Korea. While having dinner at their home, we discussed the possibility of getting my help decorating the living room and making it more colorful. They commissioned me to do a large painting to go over their couch, and I began to research Korea for ideas for it. I prayerfully put together a rough idea for the painting with real elements of the land and some real costumes for dancers, etc. The whole theme was to give her inspiration for her prayers. And as I began to paint, the Lord directed me which parts to paint in what order and what to leave alone; where to place the colors and how to use them. It began to take shape, but in a very different way than if I had simply forged ahead with my own way of thinking from the sketches I'd made.
This painting was so large that I had hung it on our living room wall to paint. One morning I was having my devotional time sitting on the couch across the room and happened to glance up. My breath caught. I couldn't believe my eyes, so I looked back down at my Bible. A few moments later I looked up again, and still saw what I'd thought I had seen the first time. I got up and went over to look more closely at the painting, and sure enough, it was still visible, not a trick of early morning lighting or of my faulty vision. I sat back down and began to ask God what in the world this meant. Our daughter came in the room and saw me looking dumbstruck. I asked her to look at the center of the painting and tell me if she noticed anything unusual. And she saw it, too. So, let me explain...
A lot of the painting was already in progress: a mountain range that was real; a waterfall that was real with an imagined pool at the bottom ... But right by that there was an area that I'd left blank at the direction of Holy Spirit. Only now there were soft brush strokes in that area that clearly defined a Jewish patriarch, head to toe - or hem of robe. His head was slightly cocked to the side, and all of his features were defined, including his beard. Everything was even in the right proportions! His arms were covered in his robe as if his hands were clasped at his pelvis, and with a few strokes, all the lighting of this figure was correct, as if planned and executed on purpose. Only I didn't even remember having that paint color on my brush, much less making these strokes! (Had I cleaned my brush there???) And God said to leave it alone! I was in shock. Why was there a Jewish patriarch in the almost exact center of a painting about Korea?
This began a time when other figures, faces and images began to show up in the painting. They just showed up! None of them was created intentionally by me. I would see them after they'd been created. Once in a while, my Teacher would let me make one a little clearer, but I never put any of them in on purpose or decided what any of these images should be. And to be crystal clear, any changes I made to faces I was shown were tiny ones. It wasn't that I saw a hint of a face and then fleshed it out. God was putting faces in this painting!!! And eventually, it began to make a little bit of sense to me. God was putting images of real people into the painting! Why those particular people, I had no idea. There was an African American with an obvious 70's afro hairstyle. There was a row of Catholic nuns. There was an Indian chief that Holy Spirit told me was a Cherokee. There was one face the Lord said was a New York cab driver. Huh? What was going on?
On the right side of the painting I had planned to have a curving path coming from the distant mountain range, with Korean dancers in all the glorious colors of their traditional dance costumes, to become the focus in the foreground. That wasn't to be! Holy Spirit kept me from painting them, over and over when I would point to the empty right side, and He would redirect me to another part of the painting. When He did begin to have me paint on the right side, it was to put in a grassy expanse that had a large green face 'under' it, like a Mother Earth image. The path was placed, but not defined, and as it began to take shape, He had me paint the 'road' coming forward from a mere tan path to stones at the middle distance which became figures almost like popsicle sticks up close, with mere slashes of color. These were Korean people coming to the baptismal pool at the feet of the Jewish patriarch. And in the end, they never got enough definition to make them appear "real". The "real" looking faces were those of the hidden images.
After it was finished, Holy Spirit told me that all the faces He had created in this painting for intercession were of actual people who had at one time in history, or were still, praying for Korea. Certainly, He did not mean they were the only ones. But these were the "real" people. The ones who were coming to baptism were not yet "real". They were becoming real.
And the Jewish patriarch? He was Father Abraham. You may say, he couldn't have known of Korea then. That's what I said. But he prayed for all the nations of his time, and those to come. Those he knew of, and those he trusted I AM to watch over about which he had no knowledge. He was a man of prayer. And one of the confirmations of this prayerfulness for others was that, as the painting came to completion, in the area of his robe covered arms there formed infants in utero, those yet to come. It looked very obviously that he was protecting them in his arms and the folds of his robe.
Abraham Lincoln's face is in there, too. There are so many images that I didn't even find them all, though I found dozens. God promised me that others would see ones He hadn't shown me yet. When the painting was hung in our friends' living room, their 7 year old son came in and instantly saw another one.
There is one more face I will tell you about here. At the bottom right of this canvas I painted a young Korean mother with her infant peacefully sleeping in a traditional wrapping on her back. She is large, as if you are looking over her shoulder at Korea in a photograph. Her face is turned toward the viewer and her expression is of deep distress. She is the call to intercession for her people, her country. The title of this painting is her question to the viewer: Will You Pray for Them?
I still love Michelangelo. Now I realize that I will not paint like him in my lifetime. It's ok. Because I am becoming God's apprentice. I am learning to let His Spirit live through me and breathe on my canvases. I've asked Jesus for His anointing, that what I paint will be for His purposes, not mine. I've asked Him to touch other people with what He helps me create, and to bless others by the presence of these paintings in their homes, offices, or wherever they go. Sometimes what He does through me is obvious, and sometimes I haven't got a clue. That's ok, too. He gets to be the Master and I get to be the disciple, the apprentice; and I'm becoming more and more useful as an instrument of His love in this world. :-)
Thursday, January 6, 2011
When God redirected my art
When I was still a little girl, I knew that I was an artist, and that when I grew up, I would "be" an artist. Sensitive, imaginative, at home entertaining myself, making up stories and playing for hours with tiny porcelain animals, trolls, rubber horses, drawing complicated scenes filling page after page of visual stories... all the time knowing that these things inside of me had a life of their own.
We had a strong family, though not a religious one. My parents valued education and the American Dream. Although they praised my artistic creations, they did not invest in my talent. I crammed extra art classes into my high school curriculum, and after marrying right out of high school in 1970, I took every art class Va Tech had to offer. (But not the painting classes.) That took several years as a "special student" while my husband was finishing two degrees there, and as a "special student" I didn't have to take all the other courses required for a degree. I could concentrate on just my art.
Not having a college degree kept me from entering the job world as a paid working artist. But I was busy and happy as a young wife and then as a young mother. Ken and I became born again Christians after we'd been married 3 years, during the Jesus Movement. Since then the Lord has been the very epicenter of my life and existence. An extremist personality, I dove into spirituality with passion and zeal and from that time He has directed and redirected my life.
The talent I was given was used for many years to bless others and not with any acknowledged purpose other than to please. I made Christmas presents, holiday costumes, stuffed animals and dolls. Almost everything I made I also gave away. Over and over there were seasons of teaching art, but no season of concentrating on producing art. I dabbled in all kinds of creativity and loved it all. I sculpted, quilted, embroidered, appliqued, cross-stitched, etched, silk-screened, made candles, jewelry, enamelled copper, batik, worship banners, etc. You name it; I probably tried it! And as a woman who prayed, God often gave me ideas of what to do, or how to do it.
What I was totally unprepared for was what He said to me in 1999. I had several ideas simmering in my imagination, and another one popped in. It felt like it was from God, and it was very exciting. I immediately began to figure out ways to make this idea come to life. I heard God my Father say, "I want you to paint it." My response was something like, "Oh, God, You know I don't paint. I could do collage!!! Or I could do this with applique!!!" (Have you ever given God the brush off?) He said again, "I want you to paint it," and again I began to tell Him how I could do it without painting, since I reiterated to Him, "You know I don't paint." As I continued to burble about the many ways this delightful project could be done, His voice said with somber authority, "If you won't paint it, then you cannot do it. And I will not give you any more inspiration."
Huh?
What?
Lord, did You really just say that to me?
I was stopped in my tracks. All the internal emoting I'd been doing simply hushed. I was speechless. (Those of you who know me can insert a laugh track here.) When He had convinced me that this word had truly come from Him, and that it was His desire that I paint, I looked around for the means to begin. I had no supplies for this. I never considered painting. I'd always told Him that 'painting is a discipline, and if I paint, I won't have time for all these other creative things.' Here I'd always felt as if His Spirit had said to me, "..And? ... What's the problem with that?" But I'd been good at giving Him the brush off when it came to painting. Suddenly, I'd come to the end of His patient tolerance of that.
The short version of this story (I know, I know.) is that I signed up for a night class at an adult education center. Six weeks, two completed paintings, buying limited supplies. I figured I could do that. Overachiever that I am, I got every single suggested item on the class list. I'd been drawing and doing art all my life, and my expectation was that this professor would show me how to mix color, and I'd be good to go. Instead, he had us put away our brushes and required us to do these paintings completely by palette knife. (What? Wasn't that just a tool for mixing the colors?) He showed us impressionism. He stretched us to explore technique with colors that bled into each other and reflected each other and there were no exact edges and sharp definitions.... Oh, my.
This one short class changed the direction of the use of my talent completely. When I'd finished the two paintings of the 6 week class, I set off on a journey with Holy Spirit that has been way beyond anything I could have ever imagined. And God began to paint things into my paintings, as I let Him be my Teacher and my Guide. I'll tell you all about that in the next post.
We had a strong family, though not a religious one. My parents valued education and the American Dream. Although they praised my artistic creations, they did not invest in my talent. I crammed extra art classes into my high school curriculum, and after marrying right out of high school in 1970, I took every art class Va Tech had to offer. (But not the painting classes.) That took several years as a "special student" while my husband was finishing two degrees there, and as a "special student" I didn't have to take all the other courses required for a degree. I could concentrate on just my art.
Not having a college degree kept me from entering the job world as a paid working artist. But I was busy and happy as a young wife and then as a young mother. Ken and I became born again Christians after we'd been married 3 years, during the Jesus Movement. Since then the Lord has been the very epicenter of my life and existence. An extremist personality, I dove into spirituality with passion and zeal and from that time He has directed and redirected my life.
The talent I was given was used for many years to bless others and not with any acknowledged purpose other than to please. I made Christmas presents, holiday costumes, stuffed animals and dolls. Almost everything I made I also gave away. Over and over there were seasons of teaching art, but no season of concentrating on producing art. I dabbled in all kinds of creativity and loved it all. I sculpted, quilted, embroidered, appliqued, cross-stitched, etched, silk-screened, made candles, jewelry, enamelled copper, batik, worship banners, etc. You name it; I probably tried it! And as a woman who prayed, God often gave me ideas of what to do, or how to do it.
What I was totally unprepared for was what He said to me in 1999. I had several ideas simmering in my imagination, and another one popped in. It felt like it was from God, and it was very exciting. I immediately began to figure out ways to make this idea come to life. I heard God my Father say, "I want you to paint it." My response was something like, "Oh, God, You know I don't paint. I could do collage!!! Or I could do this with applique!!!" (Have you ever given God the brush off?) He said again, "I want you to paint it," and again I began to tell Him how I could do it without painting, since I reiterated to Him, "You know I don't paint." As I continued to burble about the many ways this delightful project could be done, His voice said with somber authority, "If you won't paint it, then you cannot do it. And I will not give you any more inspiration."
Huh?
What?
Lord, did You really just say that to me?
I was stopped in my tracks. All the internal emoting I'd been doing simply hushed. I was speechless. (Those of you who know me can insert a laugh track here.) When He had convinced me that this word had truly come from Him, and that it was His desire that I paint, I looked around for the means to begin. I had no supplies for this. I never considered painting. I'd always told Him that 'painting is a discipline, and if I paint, I won't have time for all these other creative things.' Here I'd always felt as if His Spirit had said to me, "..And? ... What's the problem with that?" But I'd been good at giving Him the brush off when it came to painting. Suddenly, I'd come to the end of His patient tolerance of that.
The short version of this story (I know, I know.) is that I signed up for a night class at an adult education center. Six weeks, two completed paintings, buying limited supplies. I figured I could do that. Overachiever that I am, I got every single suggested item on the class list. I'd been drawing and doing art all my life, and my expectation was that this professor would show me how to mix color, and I'd be good to go. Instead, he had us put away our brushes and required us to do these paintings completely by palette knife. (What? Wasn't that just a tool for mixing the colors?) He showed us impressionism. He stretched us to explore technique with colors that bled into each other and reflected each other and there were no exact edges and sharp definitions.... Oh, my.
This one short class changed the direction of the use of my talent completely. When I'd finished the two paintings of the 6 week class, I set off on a journey with Holy Spirit that has been way beyond anything I could have ever imagined. And God began to paint things into my paintings, as I let Him be my Teacher and my Guide. I'll tell you all about that in the next post.
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