Joyful Expectation

This painting expresses my longing for heaven, not that it looks like heaven by any stretch. But in light of the Holy Scriptures, the best I can do is look up with awe and wonder into the vast universe with joyful expectation. 

Last Sunday in church, we celebrated the first week of Advent. We lit the candle of HOPE, sometimes called the “Prophecy Candle,” in remembrance of the prophets, especially Isaiah, who foretold the birth of Christ. It represents the expectation felt in anticipation of the coming Messiah and reflects on the promised rapture of the Bride of Christ and the triumphant return of Jesus with His Bride at the second coming.

This morning as I made my bed, my Havanese pup, Snickers, stood beside me, happily wagging his tail and looking up at me with his dark but sparkling eyes. He knows that once the bed is made, and a covering placed over the top, I will lift him onto the bed while I get ready for the day. His eager anticipation reminds me of how Jesus must see my eyes bright in eager expectation for Him to lift me up to a place prepared for me. 

When I take the pups outside each night, I look up at the stars. I also see the growing brightness of incoming airplanes over Spokane. I sigh as I go back into the house with my longing still unfulfilled. The stars are so far away, but I know His coming grows nearer than ever. He promised to come, and His Word is trustworthy.

The prophets of old said He would come, and He fulfilled their prophecy when He came as a babe 2,000 years ago. Although Israel did not expect a baby in a manger, He slipped under their radar. He surprised them with a gift more significant than they could ever imagine. Jesus did not come to free them simply from Roman rule but from the depth of their sins. 

Father God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. God the Son did not come into the world to condemn the world, but that the world, through Him, might be saved! (see John 3:16-17). Yes, He came, He died, He rose again, and promised to return. 

Oh, how I relate to the words of Charles Wesley (1707–1788), Come Thou long-expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee. I find my rest in His love and promises as I celebrate this Christmas without my husband for the first time in fifty-two years. As I gaze into the heavens, I remember Paul’s words, 

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord, himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words (1Thess 4:13-18).

I pray these words also encourage and strengthen your faith to persevere and endure until Jesus comes. Until then, with eager expectation, may we find our rest in Him. Ann Voskamp writes, “You can’t snuff out hope, you can’t smother out hope, you can’t stamp out hope because HE IS COMING.”

Even so, come, Lord Jesus!

A Grateful Heart

Let them give thanks to the Lord for His unfailing love and His wonderful deeds for mankind, for He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things. Psalm 107:8-9

WITH A GRATEFUL HEART, I thank my LORD for the opportunity to create with both paints and words. One on canvas, the other on screen. In both ways, I share His loving kindness and tender mercies. He alone satisfies my thirsty soul and hungry heart with good things. I lift my trembling hands to Him, and He opens my mind’s eye to paint concepts in visual reality.

In this seasonal transition, I watch winter’s breath extinguish fiery autumn leaves and strip branches clean. Tree and shrub life-blood drops into roots until spring whispers again. With harvest completed, all lies bare beneath the stars until frost crystalizes in lace on naked branches and gently falling snowflakes blanket the land.

This painting celebrates Thanksgiving with a garden harvest before morphing into a silent white winter. In this place, my latent creativity awakens to paint-tubes and brushes. Despite dark skies, an invisible sun brightens the foreground.

Not photo reality, but impressions of things define my new artistic style. My artist friend loaned me several Impressionistic Artists videos, and I’m relating…somewhat. Will I create masterpieces this winter? If I do, only I will know the value of struggling to make color and pattern meaningful to me now. What will life and purpose look like as I learn to fly solo and discover a new identity?

Despite its beauty, the winter world appears dead and abandoned. Will my heart find new beauty, a solace for what I’ve lost? Winter’s sun breaks through dark clouds to illuminate the present with a blinding brightness not seen before. Hope whispers, though distant, it promises new life once again. What future will the Master paint? I cannot know, except I walk by faith into His promises one day at a time.

He picks up bushes of wise and loving providence to miraculously paint my life in a way that reveals His character. Fear is the expectation of evil and seeks to overcome my trust. Yet, I choose to expect good from my LORD. As Scripture says, “Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame” (Rom 12:11).” And, “The LORD has become my fortress, and my God, the rock in whom I take refuge (Psa 94:22). In you, LORD, I take refuge and give thanks.

Yet, I feel winter’s chill deep inside my aging bones. I hear (barely) North Wind howling outside my dimming window panes, and I snuggle beneath my down comforter with groans. Tears run silently into the pillow I embrace. I will dream of health and strength and spring, new life and possibilities, pictures to paint and stories to write, and people to love. Too many imaginations and sleep escapes. So I toss and turn nearly until dawn. And when morning comes, I walk again by faith, not sight, and not in my own strength.

Even now, in winter’s grip, He peels away anxiety because I lay my burdens at His feet with thanksgiving. I look into a grey wintery sky and know the Son shines ever more brightly above the clouds. And one of these days, I’ll awaken to a new morning, a glorious day when winter melts into eternal spring—the most incredible Thanksgiving Day of all!

Redeemed

A gracious invitation to join our friends for a weekend at their Alaskan cabin helped build our relationship through shared memories. To express my gratitude, I endeavored to make a painting of this lovely place as a gift to them. However, being my usual resourceful self, I used a recycled canvas leftover from my husband’s Olan Mills days by soaking off the original glued-on portrait. I gave the canvas several coats of gesso and called it good. The rough canvas disallowed perfection, so I never felt it good enough to gift. Years later, my daughter found this rough painting in my closet and told me I needed to give it to them, and if I did not, she would. I said I needed to somehow redeem it first.

Still, I waited. More years passed, my tremors became worse, and I stopped painting altogether. This last winter, when I thought maybe I could at least paint abstracts, God surprised me with the ability to still paint realism, albeit more impressionistic. I pulled out this cabin picture and worked on it again. Though not perfect, I finally redeemed the imperfection of the rough canvas since it portrayed a rustic cabin, especially if placed in a rustic frame. My husband took a photo of it, which I emailed to my Alaskan friend. It is what it is and hopefully reminds them of many happy memories with their family.

Although I publish this untimely autumn painting in spring, I want to share a timely message with you. King David says God created his inmost being and knit him together in his mother’s womb. Yes, each of us is fearfully and wonderfully made by the Master Artist. David says, “Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! (see Psa 139:13-17).

Not only did God design and create us, but tells us we can be confident that He who began a good work in us will continue and complete that work until the day of Jesus Christ (see Phil 1:6). He has redeemed us from destruction by His shed blood on the cross. Paul tells us to continue to work out our salvation with fear and trembling because what happens to us is actually GOD at work in us to will and act to fulfill His good purpose (see Phil 2:12-13).

Just like I took a long time to finish this cabin painting, God takes a long time to continue the work He began in us. Sometimes, it feels like we are stuck deep in a closet, forgotten by God, and abandoned because of our imperfections. I admit that I forgot about this painting for a time, but God never ever forgets us. He promised never to leave or forsake us. He redeems ALL the circumstances of our lives by working them together to conform us to His beautiful image. He also redeems all the painful things in our lives to reveal Himself to us and to those around us (see Rom 8:28-29).

My painting wasn’t ready to give away for many years, and God is not finished with me yet either.  However, He promised to complete the work He began, for which I am so grateful! Right now, He paints our lives on rough canvas, and no amount of human effort makes us perfect. But John tells us, “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! …Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. All who have this hope in Him purify themselves, just as He is pure” (1Jn 3:1-3).

We don’t know what we shall be except that we shall be like Him. What a glorious promise! My painting will never be perfect, but when we see Jesus in heaven, God promises redemption and perfection to those who trusted in Him. Until then, we purify ourselves by seriously continuing to live for Him in gratitude for Christ’s robe of righteousness around us.

I’m working on another painting I may or may not ever show you. As I work on it, I keep thinking of the first line of an old hymn that says, “When morning gilds the skies, my heart awakening cries, may Jesus Christ be praised.” I’m struggling to paint the sky in a gilded sunrise, but I’m encouraged by God’s promise to continue His work in my life and redeem me from destruction (see Psa 103:4).

I pray you will accept God’s invitation to join Him in a quiet place, make memories, build your relationship with Him, and rejoice in His faithful redemption.