when a heart becomes a strawberry.

Fruit of the Spirit.

ashen remains

A week past of seeing how simply easy to lose years of material gain - what some may deem as part of themselves - only to be gifted life again by seeing another sunrise and sunset. To be blessed with hot sticky weather, dirty clothing, smelly motel room, chicken salad. Another breath - another kidney dialysis - a bowel movement - a drink of cold water - another day. Short snippets of smiles.

The cuckoo clock is blackened - the hands melted - has time stopped? Just long enough to get out of the burning wooden shelter called a home.

Laughter in the alley as flames reach toward heaven. A documentary of a man who lost his memory. Not memories in a house fire but memories from his mind. A blink of an eye and they return, another blink and they are gone.

And now the ashen remains are just that - memories - that can be sifted through using hands of flesh, blood and bone. Praise God.

Quenched thirst and drowned fires by rivers of Living Water.

heart of worship when creating art

This is a fantastic quote from a site I came upon.

written by Sara: "Art speaks in a loud, strident voice – boldly expressing opinions held fiercely by their creators. Art shouts from walls of galleries, as the outpouring of personal tastes, opinions and philosophies of the artists."

The link:

http://www.christian-artist-resource.com/heart-of-worship.html

I created artwork for years with the notion that the viewer was the story teller. Each person viewing the piece would incorporate their story into it. I offered up no explanation nor wanted to force my view onto said viewer. I discovered that was wrong. I don't believe in postmodernism and that is what I was preaching. Who knew? I certainly did not.

The painter has something to say and it is usually specific. Just like our Creator who created heaven and earth has something to say - something beautiful. View the grand oak tree reaching to the sky worshipping it's Creator with outstretched arms! Green leaves budding in the spring, coming to life - a new creation in the magnificent sun. Can anyone look at the oak tree and have their own interpretation of the oak tree's purpose? I suppose, but what was the intention of the Master Artist? What was God's intention when He made that oak tree? What other interpretation could there be than to worship and praise Him?

"Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad, let the sea resound, and all that is in it; let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them. Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy; they will sing before the Lord." (Psalm 96:11-13)

I am learning how to create in a different way. The past three years in particular I have learned that I can worship God in creating artwork. The art is my song. Sometimes I forget this however and I get an idea and create while excluding Him. I look elsewhere for inspiration. I don't pray. Sara in her post says to beware of this. Such a wise note of caution.

So back to the quote that started this post. I love the visual of art shouting from gallery walls.

The creation SHOUTS from earth, as the outpouring of the intentions of the Master Creator. The Ultimate Artist - God.

Thank God for the reminder and this new blog of encouragement.

joy and sorrow continued...

What does God say of Joy and Sorrow?

Many suffer and fall away from the Lord due to a false premise of thinking that they will have no tribulations when they come to Christ. If they have enough faith they will be healed or will have "the favor". I am saddened by this type of thinking.

The bible speaks of tribulations as a way to glorify God. Through trials we stand in faith and love to the One who created us. We learn of dying to self, becoming selfless - like Christ who died for us. He gave up all things for us. That is selfless. If we are continually seeking our own gratification; what we can get out of life and question why bad things happen to us, then perhaps it is time to read the bible a bit more carefully.

Though the fig tree may not blossom, Nor fruit be on the vines; Though the labor of the olive may fail, And the fields yield no food; Though the flock may be cut off from the fold, And there be no herd in the stalls -- Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk 3:17-18

The trials in life allow us to reach out to God. They are meant to bring us to our knees. They are to edify, to teach, to show us that we are in need of our Creator. He created us and He saved us. How do we repay that? By crying and whining about how hard we have it? If we lose an arm do we not have another?

Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice. Psalm 51:8

If we lose both arms do we not have a leg? If we lose everything - our purity, our innocence, our voice, our sight, our family, our spouse - do we not still have our heart?

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, A broken and a contrite heart -- These, O God, You will not despise. Psalm 51:17

It is awesome to think that a Creator would allow us to go through the pain and hurts of life in order to break our hearts so that we may see His sovereignty, His holiness, His love.

written by Paul while bound in chains:

But I want you to know, brethren, that the things which happened to me have actually turned out for the furtherance of the gospel, so that it has become evident to the whole palace guard, and to all the rest, that my chains are in Christ; and most of the brethren in the Lord, having become confident by my chains, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. Philipians 1:12-14

The spiritual life is bigger - more important to God than the physical. He deals with our hearts (I see a continuing theme here). What are our intentions? Where does our faith, loyalty and love reside?

They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. Psalm 126:5

joy and sorrow - khalil gibran

Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow."

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

our very best.

I was listening to a cd today. Some may think the singer a bit pitchy or inexperienced. I hear passion and I hear past the pitchy and the inexperience. It made me happy and revealed to me that even though we should give God our best - sometimes our best is not the best of another. Sometimes our best is pitchy and inexperienced! And it's ok to simply sing!

If the very best that we can do is compared to filthy rags - then oh how I long to sit next to the one who sings off key at church - singing from the very pit of his soul - singing out loudly to praise the Lord with passion. To share with the artist who has something to say about their God - the God of heaven and earth using cheap paints with unsteady brushstrokes. To read the poem written by the teen that doesn't rhyme nor make sense but makes sense to her and to her God.

But we are all like an unclean thing,

And all our righteousnesses are like filthy rags;

We all fade as a leaf,

And our iniquities, like the wind,

Have taken us away.

Isaiah 64:6 (NKJV)

Do I deny to sing or to paint or to write because I don't think I am good enough? Or do I think that I am better than they? To God, if our righteousness is as filthy rags, then we are all the same. We are picked out by our intention. Yes everything comes down to the intention of the heart doesn't it?

this word: garment.

This word Garment - suggested by Rachel and I added an s.

Here we go.

Garments of sacrifice

burn at the fringe

they smell like lost innocence

and they cover over

they cover over

Garments of faith

taped to the paper doll

they look like sackcloth

and they feel like wool

they feel like wool

Garments of joy

dog-eared to remind

they taste like freedom

and they are warm like the sun

warm like the sun

Garments of praise

fall down with arms raised

they are likened to birds

and they reveal our hearts

reveal our hearts

I was thinking...

Being intentional is quite difficult. One tends to put too much emphasis on making words so deliberate that the words never come. I glanced around and found writings from the past. Non-sensical writings that revealed. So I read them and realized I can re-write them, just like God has re-written me.

~~~~~~~

written 2002 - revised 2010

and I was thinking

and that’s always unfinished business

when I stand

and I look

I forget who I am

until I see Christ looking back at me

and I was thinking

and I am always thinking

that my eyes were closed

when I read

the dance steps

of this passion played oh so sweetly

and I was thinking

when I wasn’t falling

how crazy silly

this faith meanders around me

when I talk to God

and He reminds me just how human I can be

and I was thinking

absurd as it sounds

that this little girl

is allowed to cry

because it isn’t so bad

and the ashes simply blow away

I try not to think about it

not to think anymore

that fits and tantrums

disfigure my face

when I whine

and You remind me of my sin

You hold my hand

and You tell me it’s ok

but I already knew

so I sang You a song

and played my deliberate painting

and left it unfinished

just like me

and I was thinking...

You already knew what I was thinking.

plastic flowers.

tin can rose.