I saw a canvas, the happiest tone of pink with what I believe may be poppies strewn across the surface. The paint, thick and creamy and a sporadic peppering of words like joy and in the corner was the page torn from a song book.
This, I saw when visiting my sister after a long time, this canvas at the top of her stairs. I paused in the moment of gentle surprise of forgotten inspiration for my art.
I’ve got what my friend calls an “angel ministry”. I sit in my girl’s old bedroom and I sing in an empty house, lyrics of grace and peace, of gardens and of mercy and trust.
I paint for hours. I am lost in the process of paint covered fingers and layering of color and expression. My angels are without facial features, I pray their figure brings a pleasing pause, a contemplation or comfort.
Like the pink canvas and I in my sister’s Savannah home.
Little pages torn from old hymnals are the starting point to my pieces, just one of the many reasons lately I find myself singing praise.
I’m singing “praise God from whom all blessings flow.” a whole lot more, acknowledging His gift of grace.
For he has heard my purposeful morning and intermittent recitation of the ancient prayer of a young man who felt he’d do well just to not be a burden.
Every day, I pray in different form or fashion sometimes, thinking of his expectation of nothing more than a life of hardship.
I pray the words of Jabez “Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my border, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain!”
And God granted what he asked.
I Chronicles 4: 10
And I have blessed, I have been given opportunities I never expected. God has enlarged my border, extended opportunities.
I decided not to be afraid and I surrendered it to Him.
This is why I sing a song from pre-Pandora or Spotify days, a CD my daughter made for me and my son and I sang along to sometimes…” Does it ever catch your eye…beauty divine?
Believe, life will surprise you. Believe.”