I feel rusty writing my heart through my fingertips. It feels like the blank page is a bit too much to fill, not because I don't have enough, but because I have three years of stirring that has been scattered on journal pages, through paint strokes, and many life moves. Still, I have been wanting to write again for some time and this piece is probably one of my most surrendered at heart, that holds a big story. It wasn't a surprise, then, that out of all of my works this was the one was chosen for a local silent auction. So here we are, a perfect segue to tell you all about it (or at least the condensed version).
While I'm Waiting was born out of an acute period of uncertainty at the end of a LONG-LINE of earthly disappointments (important note: disappointing for me, not God). While I knew for certain God's plan was already in place and it was for good, life's journey along the way was mentally/emotionally hard, wrought with many frustrations. The many frustrations brought, with them, friends of disappointment.
One particularly tiresome day, I was painting in order to process all that was on my heart, to put Truth in front of feelings and circumstance, to honor the Lord, and find His order for my heart. I pulled out the canvas and grabbed the colors that felt right--black, gray, and white--no vibrant color. If you know me, or follow my artwork for any period of time, you know most of my work has color, and lots of it. In fact color, to me, often represents the presence of God.
The first layers of darkly contrasted paint were what my head and my heart said of this journey, of this unknown. Interestingly, while painting the initial deep, dark black I was surprised to see a music note emerge. Then I saw that the lines reminded me of a score and there was a big, black swirl (see below) that was the start of a treble cleff. It was as if I was painting dark, loud dissonance, devoid of any colorful melody or harmony. Looking back it makes sense because I was genuinely tired, I was painting the problem that was before me, and I was painting it with fury. Honestly, I was just tired of living surrendered, and being sanctified. I wanted to to be done with growing and live a lazy life to glory. That isn't even remotely in line with the truth of God's word. Christ wasn't met with joy and acceptance or ease of life, and the Word says His followers won't be either.
By God's grace, the truth sewn in my heart bubbled to the surface, "Good doesn't always feel good." I definitely didn't feel good and I didn't want to paint any color, but at this stage in the game, I KNEW BETTER. Because while that stark, dark musical contrast *felt* just right, Psalm 46:7 says, "The God of hosts is in our midst, the God of Jacob is our stronghold." I knew that my feelings needed to get in line behind the Truth. I knew that God was working all of this for our good and that even when I didn't feel like painting any color into this painting, it needed to be done. I actually stopped to tell a few of my girlfriends this and each of their responses affirmed my decision. His presence *would* be noted, honored, upheld, whether this season felt good or not.
I find it interesting to note that my pursuit to honoring the Lord in vibrant color started modestly. I began by painting softer tones of neutrals, in smooth, even lines, then finding my way to soft, hopeful movement of wispy white. Then came in the ribbon of rainbow color, in the most subtle of ways. This was my way of raising my hand in praise saying, "I trust You with this journey. I WILL move ahead serving, obeying, trusting for Your good, while I'm waiting."
The little ribbon of color was significant in its presence, but also in it's proportion. When you look at this piece from afar you cannot see the color. It's only until you come to intently study it, you'll find the thread of His glorious nature there. It reminds me that even if God's presence is imperceptible by our feeble human senses in our deepest seas of struggle or despair, there is still an ocean of grace and mercy, more than we could ask or imagine, perfectly appointed for our time of need. We only need to ask. The Word says it, and time and again, He has proven this true.
He is faithfully painting the mostly glorious symphony of grace on the canvas of our lives even when we are woefully failing, miserably not on board, or wanting to jump spiritual ship. Because He is forever faithful and cannot deny Himself (His nature). The Word says that when He had every right to choose to smite us, He chose to kindle (to stir to full fire/intensity) loving-kindness (mercy, love, compassion) toward us, AND He delights in us. That Amazing God, is in our midst and He deserves every colorful paint stroke of praise I can give Him, especially in the dark times.
One particularly tiresome day, I was painting in order to process all that was on my heart, to put Truth in front of feelings and circumstance, to honor the Lord, and find His order for my heart. I pulled out the canvas and grabbed the colors that felt right--black, gray, and white--no vibrant color. If you know me, or follow my artwork for any period of time, you know most of my work has color, and lots of it. In fact color, to me, often represents the presence of God.
The first layers of darkly contrasted paint were what my head and my heart said of this journey, of this unknown. Interestingly, while painting the initial deep, dark black I was surprised to see a music note emerge. Then I saw that the lines reminded me of a score and there was a big, black swirl (see below) that was the start of a treble cleff. It was as if I was painting dark, loud dissonance, devoid of any colorful melody or harmony. Looking back it makes sense because I was genuinely tired, I was painting the problem that was before me, and I was painting it with fury. Honestly, I was just tired of living surrendered, and being sanctified. I wanted to to be done with growing and live a lazy life to glory. That isn't even remotely in line with the truth of God's word. Christ wasn't met with joy and acceptance or ease of life, and the Word says His followers won't be either.
By God's grace, the truth sewn in my heart bubbled to the surface, "Good doesn't always feel good." I definitely didn't feel good and I didn't want to paint any color, but at this stage in the game, I KNEW BETTER. Because while that stark, dark musical contrast *felt* just right, Psalm 46:7 says, "The God of hosts is in our midst, the God of Jacob is our stronghold." I knew that my feelings needed to get in line behind the Truth. I knew that God was working all of this for our good and that even when I didn't feel like painting any color into this painting, it needed to be done. I actually stopped to tell a few of my girlfriends this and each of their responses affirmed my decision. His presence *would* be noted, honored, upheld, whether this season felt good or not.
I find it interesting to note that my pursuit to honoring the Lord in vibrant color started modestly. I began by painting softer tones of neutrals, in smooth, even lines, then finding my way to soft, hopeful movement of wispy white. Then came in the ribbon of rainbow color, in the most subtle of ways. This was my way of raising my hand in praise saying, "I trust You with this journey. I WILL move ahead serving, obeying, trusting for Your good, while I'm waiting."
The little ribbon of color was significant in its presence, but also in it's proportion. When you look at this piece from afar you cannot see the color. It's only until you come to intently study it, you'll find the thread of His glorious nature there. It reminds me that even if God's presence is imperceptible by our feeble human senses in our deepest seas of struggle or despair, there is still an ocean of grace and mercy, more than we could ask or imagine, perfectly appointed for our time of need. We only need to ask. The Word says it, and time and again, He has proven this true.
The little ribbon of color. Can you see it? |
He is faithfully painting the mostly glorious symphony of grace on the canvas of our lives even when we are woefully failing, miserably not on board, or wanting to jump spiritual ship. Because He is forever faithful and cannot deny Himself (His nature). The Word says that when He had every right to choose to smite us, He chose to kindle (to stir to full fire/intensity) loving-kindness (mercy, love, compassion) toward us, AND He delights in us. That Amazing God, is in our midst and He deserves every colorful paint stroke of praise I can give Him, especially in the dark times.
The name sake of this painting is based on the song While I'm Waiting by John Waller. I've included an excerpt of the song below. It was cry of my heart while painting and I am amazed how beautifully it highlights the gentle, beauty of our feeble surrender to God's presence in difficult periods of waiting. When it is loud and dark, when it doesn't feel good or feel like God is present at all- THAT is such a beautiful place to highlight gratitude for a God who never leaves or forsakes us (because He doesn't). There, the smallest amounts of our feeble grasping of grace can yield such brilliance.
The name sake of this painting is based on the song While I'm Waiting by John Waller. I've included an excerpt of the song below. It was cry of my heart while painting and I am amazed how beautifully it highlights the gentle, beauty of our feeble surrender to God's presence in difficult periods of waiting. When it is loud and dark, when it doesn't feel good or feel like God is present at all- THAT is such a beautiful place to highlight gratitude for a God who never leaves or forsakes us (because He doesn't). There, the smallest amounts of our feeble grasping of grace can yield such brilliance.
I'm waiting
I'm waiting on You, Lord
And I am hopeful
I'm waiting on You, Lord
Though it is painful
But patiently, I will wait
I will move ahead, bold and confident
Taking every step in obedience
While I'm waiting
I will serve You
While I'm waiting
I will worship
While I'm waiting
I will not faint
I'll be running the race
Even while I wait
I'm so grateful to know that I have a God who is in my midst "while I'm waiting," while He is doing good that doesn't feel good. I hope you know that truth as your reality, too! As I often say, if you don't know and want to the truth of Christ, I'm just a message away. He is present and wants to be known!
In Christ,
Erin
In Christ,
While I'm Waiting, Original artwork, Mixed Media on 20"x16" stretched canvas