Friday, June 7, 2013

I will go and look...

I am soooo not an artist; never could get what I saw in my head to come out of my crayons or charcoal or paintbrush or whatever.

Yet spontaneous painting is often used as a form of worship, particularly in girl's/women's events at our church.  I really struggled with the last time I participated in one of the painting sessions (and I still need to put some tail feathers on that poor bird!)

And tonight I found myself at another mother/daughter event at which the paints were out.  We were encouraged to paint graphics reflecting 'Big Dreams'.

I pulled out the little NKJV Bible I'd tossed in my bag before I left the house, thinking I'd do something with the most recent SSMT verse...y'know, the one I'm supposed to be memorizing.

Could NOT remember the reference.  Wasn't sure I had the verse good enough.  Looked and looked through Psalms, but, since I'm using one of the auxiliary Bibles, I couldn't find it.  It was, after all, a different translation.

But the clock was ticking (we only had about 30 minutes to paint) and a plate with four blobs of pink, royal blue, neon green and bright yellow...appeared at my table, along with a sheet of 'canvassy' paper.

I mixed some of the pink and yellow together and swirled some onto the page, not really sure what would happen or where I was going.

Back in the day, we used to watch Bob Ross paint a fabulous picture in 30 minutes every Saturday (he was back-to-back w/ 'Sewing with Nancy').  I was amazed at how he just made the picture appear.  "The bushes live in your brush,' he'd say.  It looked like magic to me.

But as I swirled that bit of paint onto the page, suddenly I saw a whole picture.  And instead of struggling as I did last time, the picture...well, graphic...seemed to leap off my brush.

I had to bring it home to finish it, as I couldn't put the words on until it was dry, but, yeah, talk abut a big God dream...

  Moses had given up on the dream of freeing his people.  But there, at the burning bush, it was revived.

Part of the prayer my pastor friend prayed over me Saturday was that God would bring about the dreams I'd given up on.

I can't revive a dead dream.  But I can take off my shoes and listen when He begins to speak of it.

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