The Joy of Painting

The little canvases were about 3 x 5 inches and each contained original artwork. My grown son had undertaken an art project with my grandsons and each of them had worked diligently on a painting. A little Bob Ross moment, creating masterpieces. My son’s painting was quite good, actually, with sun highlighting the tree trunks, creating dimension; and a shimmer on the placid lake, hinting at depth. Even the nine-year-old’s painting was pretty realistic. The seven-year-old had deviated from the landscape theme and gone with some kind of animal, and it, too, was good—in a seven-year-old kind of way. And then there was the little man’s. My four-year-old grandson’s painting was . . . abstract, shall we say. A few blurry blobs of various colors, smeared, washed-out . . . yet beautiful in its own way. 

As we got to this last one, my son had to share the story of how this masterpiece came to be. My little grandson had painted all kinds of color onto the canvas, with complete abandon. Joyously adding this, then that. No apparent pattern or plan. So much so, that in time the colors blended and it got pretty messy and then, finally, basically black. Displeased with this outcome, little man had taken it into the bathroom and simply washed the canvas off under the running water . . . rings of color swirling around the sink and then down the drain. And so, there you had it, his masterpiece—vestiges of the underlying color clinging as residual, creating its own sort of abstract art with a unique appeal and a beauty all its own.

The very next day, I was doing some morning prayer time with a dear friend. A bit out of the blue, somewhere in the middle of her prayer, I heard her saying . . .  “Lord, so often we want to do what is right in your eyes. We want to do it perfectly. It’s like we want to paint a Picasso or a Rembrandt, yet our attempts are so imperfect. And we can be so hard on ourselves. Help us to be more like children. Help us find joy in the process—even if it’s not perfect! It’s like if Kaia’s grandchildren were to paint a picture, having so much fun doing it, even though it wasn’t perfect."  

I don’t know exactly how she finished that prayer, but my mind quickly went to the little 3 x 5 canvases. Especially, little man’s. He had so much fun doing it! Yet it was far from perfect. And I’m sure that his uncle did not rebuke him for his imperfection, but rather I bet he marveled at it and oohed and aahed over it. Encouraging him to keep painting, to keep trying. To enjoy the process and discover that, over time, he would just get better. Lord, help us to see that you are the same.  A good Father who will rejoice in our efforts, even though our results may miss the mark. A loving Father who marvels at it and oohs and aahs over it, encouraging us to keep trying. Help us to find joy in the trying! 

The funny thing is, I had mentioned absolutely nothing to my friend about my recent visit with my son or the paintings. Yet, how perfect. Her prayer and my son’s story were weaving together into a beautiful tapestry of God’s love for us! Not even just the lesson I was to learn—to find joy in the trying as we stumble along on this journey of faith. But more than that—that he is a living God. That his Spirit dwells within us and we can know things that he knows. We can speak into others’ lives, prompted by the Holy Spirit, in a way we could never do on our own.

This friend has a tendency to do that—to pray for things I have not mentioned, to use analogies that hit so close to home . . . I get goosebumps. She lives hundreds of miles away—she has no other link to my world but what I choose to disclose—and yet, there are times where she prays with an insight that leaves me in awe. The Spirit dwells within her. What scripture teaches and what I observe come into unison. God becomes greater, I become less. He is a big God.

I think my favorite part, in all of this, is that when my grandson’s painting became so messy, so dark . . . he simply washed it off. And behind that messy darkness, there was beauty. I am reminded, once again, that that is what Jesus did for us. He took our messy darkness, washed us, and made us beautiful! Like the paint, swirling around the sink and down the drain, God cleanses us from our sin and removes it . . . taking it far away . . . as far as the east is from the west. Even the vestiges that remain can be made beautiful . . . in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him. Trusting in that, I have the confidence to keep painting. Hopefully with a little more joy!

“Go, eat your food with gladness,

and drink your wine with a joyful heart,

for God has already approved

what you do.”

Ecclesiastes 9:7 NIV

“This is what we speak, not in words

taught us by human wisdom but in

words taught by the Spirit,

explaining spiritual realities

with Spirit-taught words.”

1 Corinthians 2:13 NIV

“I will sprinkle clean water on you,

and you will be clean; I will cleanse

you from all your impurities

and from all your idols.”

Ezekiel 36:25 NIV

“…as far as the east is from the west,

so far has he removed our

transgressions from us.”

Psalm 103:12 NIV

“And we know that in all things God

works for the good of those who love

him, who have been called according

to his purpose.”

Romans 8:28 NIV