Phillipians 4:13 says " I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength."
I'm a "can't-er." There, I said it. God has made me, in His goodness, an encourager of others, but when it comes to myself, the resonating screams of "I can't" often bounce wildly around my brain. Then from my brain into my soul, until I'm forgetting the One who ALWAYS can. The forgetting is never, ever a good thing.
I was talking to my mother-in-law, whom I aptly refer to as my mother-in-love, last night. She is such a beautiful example of grace and wisdom. She tells the truth seasoned with such humility, it's truly remarkable. Anyway, She mentioned to me that artists are often deep thinkers who use creativity as an outlet. This obviously makes sense, but it really struck a chord in me.
When started painting a few years ago I was just beginning to understand being in the thick of a full-time wife/mom. I traded my Chuck Taylors and clinic hours, for diapers and 24/7 crazy-mommy lady. Point being, I spent a great deal of time serving others, and lost most (almost all) time for understanding or expressing myself. While I wouldn't change one iota of that gift (children now up to three :)), I can see how painting made its way to the surface. The first little painting I did was completely freeing, but when I thought of others seeing it, the "I can'ts" were flying. Fastforward to actually painting for others... oh, what my poor family and friends had to hear come from this self-conscious nitwit.
To be honest, I still deal with the "I can'ts," but there was a BIG change this spring. I let go and said, "If when I paint I'm only worried if You'll be pleased, Lord, then I can paint whatever I want." LIBERATING. SO, amazingly liberating. If my only criteria is that I paint to honor the Lord, then it doesn't much matter if one ever sells or if Bobby down the street thinks I'm a total lune-ball who paints things that look like his dog barfed up. I am, for the record, I lune-ball, but I hope my paintings don't make people think of dog vomitus.
For Pete's sake with the digression, SORRY. Anyway, I wanted to see if I could do detailed landscape with lots of color because *I* can't even cut straight with scissors. But, with Christ, I can do anything He allows.
****Side note: We can do ALL things through Christ, in His will, with His permission, for His Glory. I'm definitely not saying, that when you become a Christian you can do whatever the dickens you want- sometimes including good, awesome Godly things. But, when you know and love the Lord, I do believe He delights in blessing us in ways that bring us joy. Accomplishing an "I can't" brought me immense joy.
Mooooving on :)
Years ago if I were able to see this painting I would have most certainly said, "I couldn't do that." And back then, I couldn't. I hadn't tasted and seen the goodness of God as I am presently. I didn't have the Godly confidence to paint that then. I will look back on this moment, too, Lord willing, and see how His love has made me grow/mature in my heart and my art.
I've learned just as this little cabin is tucked away in nature's splendor, our souls have potential waiting to be unleashed, As we surrender and lean into God, may we experience His intricately personal "All things through Christ."
**if you're interested in purchasing this painting or a print, please contact me at: erinobrienart@gmail.com.
"Tucked Away"
20"x16" Acrylic on stretched canvas
Showing posts with label original artwork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label original artwork. Show all posts
Monday, July 13, 2015
Thursday, May 7, 2015
New Heart
"I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh."- Ezekiel 36:26
I cannot tell you the comfort this verse brings. It tells me so many things. It tells me God saw the hardness of heart in me and He loves me enough to remove it and replace it with a fresh, vibrant one. Thing is, I think that this not only happens in a big, eternal way-through salvation- but in the small, hard-hearted everyday stuff that steals our joy.
I have prayed this verse over my own heart so many times, yearning to be set free of selfish, near-sighted life-walking. It is no wonder that it would make it to canvas. But how it surfaced, came as it often does, through the lives of others.
I was scrolling along facebook when I came across a family's page for their little one who was in need of a new heart. While I don't know the family personally, I had been following the story, praying along. This post was an update, baby had gotten a new heart! Praise God! There, photographed so beautifully, was her "sick" heart, . It struck me, searing its image so deep, I still see it in my head so clearly. It really was beautiful. My mind was blown at the brilliant minds/hearts involved in removing this VITAL organ from a living, breathing child and replacing it with one that would work for her. And it was blown, too, that something so beautiful could be "worthless."
Isn't that how it is with us? On first inspection, our exterior may be polished and beautiful. Even our intentions can be good. But, honestly, even with the best attempts, our hearts are bound to be sick. Because we are made to be eternally connected with the Creator of the world. Our hearts are made to yearn for the Best One, not the best things of this life. He offers that freedom. When we come to Him, naturally, the damaged, scarred areas of our innermost are removed and replaced with His best. The mental picture is so beautiful. Exchanging Stone for Flesh. The Inanimate for the eternally living.
That indelible image, stirred that verse right out of my heart and onto the canvas.
I love that I was able to pray for that baby girl, and for her family. Little girl, may the LORD fill your spiritual tank to overflowing and that your "new" heart will beat wildly for Him.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Woven
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
Psalm 139:14-16
Not a single thing in all of my existence as a new creation in Jesus has lit a fire under my soul's rear like the role of mother. I couldn't have had the relationship with Christ I do, without my three, little nuggets. Each birth brought a different lesson for my heart and each joy, struggle, storm and laugh along the way is used to shape me for His glory.
Goodness, I couldn't have fully appreciated these words without seeing that first ultrasound; without holding that fresh, warm, soft newborn in my arms. I cannot, will not ever be able to describe that joy. And because of that feeling, that fierce love, I can understand just a minute amount of the love Christ has for us.
He sees us. He formed us (especially those who are handicapped or deemed "different") PERFECTLY for His master plan. He makes no mistakes. Nope. He sure doesn't. Because He is perfectly sovereign. Doesn't matter, dear one, what the heck you've done or what the world tells you of your worth. Oh, you are so loved. You were INTRICATELY woven together by the Creator of the world. Oh yes, you are here for a Mighty purpose.
To the ones who have carried that precious life in their womb and never had the chance to experience life with that soul this side of Heaven, and for those who had to return their child (0-80 years), to the arms of God, too soon for the human heart to comprehend-I'm broken for you. I cannot fathom the grief you must feel as the world keeps spinning, with your heart suspended out there-forced to keep moving.
To the woman with a barren womb, how could I even understand? How could I, a mother of three, even utter comforting thoughts your way? I cannot, other than to say that there is a Great Comforter that can provide peace that surpasses understanding. The peace would have to surprass understanding, wouldn't it? Because your arms ache so bad for something so many treat as "common place" or "insignificant." I say, here, you aren't forgotten by me and NEVER forgotten by God.
To the ones who have carried that precious life in their womb and never had the chance to experience life with that soul this side of Heaven, and for those who had to return their child (0-80 years), to the arms of God, too soon for the human heart to comprehend-I'm broken for you. I cannot fathom the grief you must feel as the world keeps spinning, with your heart suspended out there-forced to keep moving.
To the woman with a barren womb, how could I even understand? How could I, a mother of three, even utter comforting thoughts your way? I cannot, other than to say that there is a Great Comforter that can provide peace that surpasses understanding. The peace would have to surprass understanding, wouldn't it? Because your arms ache so bad for something so many treat as "common place" or "insignificant." I say, here, you aren't forgotten by me and NEVER forgotten by God.
Then, you know, there are so many women who are hurting out there because they find themselves in a society that says the child they are carrying will throw them off, mess them up, or that they just won't be able to "handle it." Some of those women now grieve because they made the choice they thought was right and now the "would haves" come and go-birthdays, dances, and other rites of passage aren't forgotten. Man alive, I hurt for those women. I can't imagine the heartache. If you are that woman, I sure love you and I'm just a piddly, little grouchbag. Broken heart, The Creator loves you so beyond what you can ask or even imagine. Trust this big sinful disaster when I say that there is literally nothing you have done that can separate you from the love of Christ. He is there waiting.
And the teenage mom, who is scared out of her gourd. Girl, my heart is so huge for you. So big, that I often dream of having a place, a BIG place, for you to come stay. To be safe, loved and cherished. To be encouraged and helped along the way because you and your precious babe is so worthy of love.
I didn't realize where this post was going before I sat here to peck it out. What a mix of emotions. Gratitude, that God is who He is and He never, ever changes. That He makes no mistakes and He has a plan (numbered the days, even) just for me. Just for you, too. Humility, that He might offer me children to open my eyes to His love as a Father. Brokenness, for those who can't or haven't yet tasted the goodness of Jesus. Sad, for those mamas who grieve the loss of their babies and for the ones, still, who are feeling hopeless in real-time. And HOPE, for those who find Christ out there in the feeble hands and hearts of those who serve Him here on earth.
He made us not for this world, that superficially builds us, wrecks us, and forgets us--He made us for Him, to be infinitely loved and a part of His daily family affairs.
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