From my past..........

I wrote this years ago, when God was awakening in me His will for my life. I can look back and see how important this little devotional was. It shows how God spoke to me as a very new believer, how He has consistently continues to speak in a way that is clear to me as an artist. We have a love language that we enjoy. It shows me the need for art ministry to continue in my life, whatever form it may take.

My frame was not hidden from Thee, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth Psalm 139:15

When I paint I often pray. I usually ask for the skill to render what it is I’m painting. It just seems natural to go to the Creator of all things when I endeavor to be creative. I think He understands that part of me.

One afternoon while my young son slept I was painting with watercolors. With a lack of inspiration, I prayed, “Father what would you have me paint?”

It was during this time of my life, I was taking watercolor classes from an abstract impressionist painter named Zoe. It was in that manner I began to just paint, not knowing what it was I was painting, just simply letting go and painting. After a time I stepped back from the colors I had placed on the page. It was with great surprise that I saw the shape of an unborn child and the uncurling petals of a flower appear. I wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but I went and got a picture of a fetus and during the next few days painted definition into the unborn child and the flower. I called it my fragile flower. I wondered, “So, an unborn child is like a flower ?”

It wasn’t until I was in my garden in the summer heat that I saw the bigger picture. I was planting a border of marigolds. My two year old son Sean was with me. Unknowst to me, he had followed alongside me ripping out each flower that I had carefully planted. Finally, I looked over and screamed “Stop!”

As I watched his countenance fall, I knew I was wrong. “How foolish,” I thought, “those marigolds cost 12 cents a piece, whereas my son was priceless to me.” Then it occurred to me that it is a natural response to be angered when something of beauty, like a flower is needlessly destroyed. But in our time so many without complaint allow the destruction of our own children.
“Lord, I think I understand what you are saying, but why a painting?” It still seemed a little odd to me. He gently replied, “Child, don’t you see, what people value they elevate to art. I want you to show them what I value.”

Today, the painting hangs in the prayer room of a pregnancy resource center in Melboune Florida. The year I painted the watercolor nearly 100 women made a confession of faith in that center, more than any of the large churches in the area.