Art in progress

My daughter loves art. At just 6 years old I see that is something that not only comes easy for her but likely will become her passion. She loves to draw, she loves to paint, she loves to create. She sees ordinary things such as a pinecone or an empty bottle or the wrapping off of a candy bar as something she can use to create something else. I’m always amazed when I watch her sketch something…she places her pencil at a place in the page that seems strange to my eye but as she goes along I begin to see the shapes taking place.

She starts in places that I wouldn’t. She creates from the place that her mind sees things..not how I see them.

As I watched her create a drawing of Mulan from freehand the other day I watched her process. I was astounded when I saw the finished product – it looked nothing like those odd places that she started with. It was a decipherable picture of what she had in mind…starting from the places she started with in her minds eye. As I watched this I began to contemplate the way that God shapes us as we allow Him to be the artist.

He starts in places we wouldn’t. He creates from the place that He sees in His mind as the creator.

He uses ordinary things..broken things..different things to create something else.

One of my favorite verses

But now, O LORD, You are our Father, We are the clay, and You our potter; And all of us are the work of Your hand. Isaiah 64:8
I think about my own life and the places on the page that God started with me seemed odd. Moving me from my hometown in Washington to remove myself from an abusive relationship and start over in a brand new place 3000 miles away from everything I had ever known.

New job. New friends. New climate. New church. New mistakes. New identity.

It was rocky.
It was uncertain
It was scary.
It was overwhelming.
It was an adventure.
It was freeing.
It was hopeful.
It was necessary.

I had taken the pencil out of His hands for many years. I had chased things that would never still the rage in me. I had abandoned His hand to draw my own picture and created a bit of a mess.

As I began to lay back and stop trying to control my life and release the grasp of the pencil into Gods hands He began to draw the lines. He began to erase my squiggly lines..He began to form shapes I never could have. He took my heap of clay and turned it into this creation that was far beyond anything I could have created with my own hands…because I was His creation to form to begin with.

This artist…well He sees things not as they are but as they should be. He sees what could be.

I saw a broken, wounded, insecure, abused girl with no possible hope of being loved well. I saw failure. I saw rejection. I saw hopelessness. I saw ‘to late’ I saw wasted years. I saw messy.

He saw a put together daughter of the King. He saw healing. He saw secure. He saw a man that would love me well beyond anything I had ever thought or could dream up on my own. He saw acceptance. He saw hope. He saw just beginning. He saw a testimony. He saw beauty in ashes.

Letting go of the pencil..releasing the clay into the hands of the master allowed for my mistakes to become the beginnings of His masterpieces.

He is still drawing lines.
He is still shading.

He is still painting…and I am letting Him.

He sees things I can’t. His finished product is better than anything I could craft on my own.

Are your lines blurry? Trying to grab the pencil? Let Him draw the lines…He sees beauty that you can’t.