I have accumulated many doodles, but this one, is not typical. This isn't something I would do every day, or really ever. It is a representation of beauty and sorrow. To be honest, I don't have any experience drawing, especially when it comes to human form. I've never really attempted to draw another human being so to draw something so significant seemed almost wrong. Because if I didn't get it right ? what kind of honor is in that?
But then my heart and my frame of mind changed. In this season of life I am constantly reminded that in our hearts we are to be progressing ever brighter until the day of Jesus. So to say I can't draw this perfect little beautiful soul because I won't get it right is just a copout. It's chickening out. It is not pushing myself to see the deeper things in life – the meaning, The substance, the deep heart of things. Not, I repeat NOT perfecting how things appear, but getting to the HEART of it. So when I give my humble offering of a little drawing to a little boy who was lost to poverty I give it to the best of my ability where I stand (in a sleep-deprived state- in a house of three little wildfires, running amok).
And that's OK. In fact that's just how God wants us to come He desires us to come with an open heart, willing to show our feeble offering trusting that he will receive the heart behind it and grow us where we need growing.
Back to the very imperfect doodle. My little doodle has a name, Elmano- a sweet little boy who died of complications of starvation. His mom had gone away, leaving her treasured blessing with family, to look for food. When she returned he was on death's door. A wonderful group of servants took this little boy in and gave him comfort and love as his body gave way and his soul entered the Perfect arms of His Creator. Perfectly loved. Perfectly nourished. Perfectly WHOLE.
The doodle, for me, is a still frame of this life. A moment, a blip on the map of existence. Where this beautiful soul, wrapped in nothing but a tent of flesh, endured torture no child should. It turned my stomach, but at the same time was unmistakably beautiful. Make no mistake there's no beauty in the suffering, but the stark LIFE that I could see in his soulful eyes- beautiful evidence of our eternality held but for a brief moment here on earth. Here for moment, but a vapor. And he is rescued for eternity now.
I see suffering. I see a need. I see a call. To be present. To understand the brevity of life. And to have my heart, eyes, ears, and mouth prepared to do the right thing, come what may.
This blog is all over the place. I'm sorry if it doesn't make much sense. I share it because maybe a part of it or even all of it will be to someone's benefit for the glory of God. I could probably write it five times and it would still be just as messy. Because how can you even write of something so incredibly huge? Answer for me is, I can't. At least not for now. So in the spirit of coming where you are, here it is.
ink on textured paper
ink on textured paper