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.
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