The empty canvas stared at me as I sat searching for inspiration. The oil paints lay untouched on my wooden palette, and my brush in my hand. I sat there staring at the plain white canvas, hoping for some divine inspiration. Nothing came. Isnít that how it always goes, when weíre searching for answers?
I put my brush into the blue and did a quick swoop of my hand. My mind wandered away from the painting, and landed on my future.
Verses swarmed in my mind. Two in particular haunting me, ďDo not worry about tomorrow, for today has enough trouble of its own.Ē Matthew 6:25 ďIn his heart, a man plans his course, and the Lord determines his steps.Ē Proverbs 16:9
As a vacant sky began to emerge from the white canvas, I began thinking of my own loneliness. Our attempts at building our family had been futile. We had planned, worried, hoped, and dreamed, and nothing came. The Lord did not bless our plans.
The ground began to form through blots of differing shades of green. The green just reminded me, of my own jealousy of those around me. Children were constant reminders of failure, betrayal, and hurt. I blamed God so harshly. Did I not lead a godly life? Wasnít He supposed to give me the desires of my heart?
From the ground arose the most magnificent mountain with a cliff here, a smudge there, and alas a blanket of grass. Prayer may move mountains, but it has not gotten me pregnant. Those at the church have been praying, girls in my bible study, my friends, my family, and then us. And yet, through all of the prayer, God has not answered.
I stared at the painting and realized something was missing. The sky was too dark, the grass was to plain, and though the mountain looked majestic it was alone.
I pondered what it needed. I added some pinks, yellows, purples, orange, and dotted beautiful dots throughout the grass. It appeared to have flowers growing throughout the land. How beautiful God created them. So delicately, and beautiful, and they only last a season. Created so masterfully, that a bird or bee eating its nectar only makes them flourish more. Heís a good God, great God. Lost in the wonder of Godís magnificence, I began to forget to be mad.
The yellow from the ground was wisped up into the sky, to add a brilliant light cascading down on the mountain: Godís light.
I then looked at the painting, I knew I captured Godís creation well: the sky, the light, the land, and the flowers. I added a bird in the sky, a winding road in the foreground, and landed on the mountain. Something was missing.
I stared at it for moments, and then began to draw some brisk features of a bear. This reminded me of a story I once was told, about a hunter and a bear. A young bear had its paw caught in a trap. The hunter looked at the bear and had mercy on it.
The hunter tried approaching the bear to help release it, but the bear became agitated and growled while trying to harm the hunter. The hunter could not reason with the bear and explain that he was just trying to help. They were too different. So the bear picked a gun out of its satchel, a dart gun that could put the bear to sleep. And he pointed it at the bear.
Though the bear did not know what it was, the searing pain from the dart the bear felt assured him that the hunter had come to hurt him. Though he continued to growl and swipe his paw, the bear began to fall asleep. It was then, that the hunter was able to release the paw.
I then began to think how the bear only saw the hunter as something to harm him, but did not understand him. I then began thinking, how different I am from God. I may not understand why he allows so much pain. But just as the bear was caused pain to be released, maybe Iím not so different from it after all.
I stood back, and looked at my painting. I admired the family of bears huddled on the mountain, and I saw that yes, it was good.
God is good.
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