Saturday, June 26, 2010

Sing to the Lord a New Song

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Psalm 96:1 Sing to the Lord a new song

Psalm 40:1-3 I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.

The Sun and the Rain and the Appleseed

20 x 28
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"Oh, the Lord's been good to me, and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need, the sun, and the rain, and the appleseed. The Lord's been good to me." Amen

My seven year old daughter, Mary Helen, and I painted this painting together. Whenever I am able to have lunch with her at school, I love to watch the children sing this blessing together. It is an incredibly heart warming sight to see a group of children singing and thanking God for their blessings.


Friday, June 25, 2010

Come Together in My Name

12 x 24Matthew 18:19-20 "Again, I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them."

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Gentle Leader

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Isaiah 40:11 He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; He gently leads those that have young.

Unless you have read the thoughts behind the painting, "Let your light shine before men", this post may not make sense to you so take a minute to read it to understand the whole story.

My girls love for me to read to them the thoughts that I have written about each painting, so a few nights ago, I had plans to read them the story about my grandmother's treasure box. That evening, we let the girls stay up late to catch fireflies, so I thought that would be a great night to share the story with them since it was about letting our lights shine. We got sort of carried away with our firefly hunting and stayed out much later than intended, so we put the story aside to read to them the following night.
The next night, as we were getting ready for bed, it began to thunder outside. For some reason, the power seems to go out with the slightest bit of wind near our home, so my girls decided to prepare themselves just in case of a power outage. Never have they done this before, but as soon as the girls heard the thunder, they each ran to grab a flash light to take to bed with them.
I printed off the story I had written, and we headed back to bed to read. My husband wasn't home so all four of us piled in my bed to read the story together. Virginia (4) fidgeted through most of it, and I wasn't sure that she heard a word, but Mary Helen(7) hung on every word I read. She has always loved a good story, especially ones from our childhood. Jordan (2) played with her flashlight and every five seconds, tried to pull the paper away from me. Virginia interrupted with questions like "Mom, who made that bed post?" and "Can we go to the pool tomorrow?" while Mary Helen just kept saying, "Be quiet, I am trying to listen!"
It seemed as if we would never reach the end of the story, and I began to question why I had even attempted this. Reading the story was beginning to feel as large a feet as rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, but like Nehemiah, I persevered, and by some miracle, they quieted down by the time I reached the end of the story. Then to my amazement, my oldest two screamed, "Read it again. Read it again". I was encouraged that maybe they heard something that I had read, so I proceeded to read it again while they listened somewhat quietly.
Mary Helen then asked with hopeful anticipation, "Do you still have that box?" When I affirmed that we did indeed still have the box, both of their eyes filled with disbelief and joy, and they jumped off the bed to go look for it. I sent them to the library to remove it from the shelf. They tiptoed as they carried it and held it out away from their bodies as if they were carrying the ark of the covenant. Mary Helen kept telling Virginia to be careful because this box was "very, very special" and that she was probably way too young to carry something so valuable. They were still in utter shock that it actually still existed.
The "let your light shine before men" card was still at the front of the box where I had taken it off the toilet and returned it to its home. We pulled it out so that Mary Helen could read the scripture to us. "Let your light shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your father which is in heaven." She smiled from ear to ear as she read it.
After she finished reading, I glanced down and noticed that the girls still had their flashlights. We turned out the lights, and I was reminded of the song, "This little light of mine", so we sat with our flashlights and sang the old bible song together. Then we talked about not hiding our lights under bushels, and they giggled and hid their flashlights under pillows and then pulled them out to demonstrate. Then, we talked about the fireflies from the night before, and how fireflies were a beautiful example of not hiding their lights.
Before being tucked into bed, the girls asked if we could keep the treasure box on our kitchen table, and my first thought was "sure, we'll put it on the cupboard next to the table so the baby won't get into it." We kept it there a few days until I realized that the lazy susan crayon holder that sits in the middle of our kitchen table was scratching our table, so the middle of our table was left looking lonely and empty. I took my grandmother's treasure box and placed it in the middle of our table and every morning, the girls take turns pulling out the same scripture cards that my grandmother read to her children. As I clean the kitchen, I see Mary Helen out of the corner of my eye thumbing through the scripture cards arranging and rearranging them as I did as a young child.
There have been many seasons, in which, although I have known God was with me in parenting my children, I have not sensed his presence. The night that they sat on my bed singing and playing with their flashlights was one of those moments where I knew, without a doubt, that He was there with me teaching my children about Himself. It was not me or my creative thoughts, but it was Him gently leading me as a parent. One night, he gave us fireflies while, the next night, He gave us flashlights to demonstrate his Word to his children.
The task of teaching my children about God and the gospel is incredibly intimidating to me. I have so much to learn about the gospel myself, and to be quite honest, I have no idea what I am doing most of the time. The one thing that I sense God impressing upon my heart is that the gospel is everywhere around us if we will only open our eyes and ask God to show it to us. In this instance, the gospel was in a painting, a firefly, a flashlight, and an old wooden box.
He has given us the tools, and He is gently leading us. Matthew 13:16 says, "Blessed are your eyes because they see and your ears because they hear." Father, open my eyes and ears to see what you are doing in my children's lives. Then, invite me to join in your work. If it was up to me, I would fall on my face in the midst of this crazy thing called parenting, but Lord, I am thankful that you are here gently leading my children closer to you. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your work. Amen


For those of you who read this blog, and picture my life being one giant sing along of "this little light of mine", let me just remind you that some of these stories are the highlights of my life as a parent, not the norm. Let me comfort you by sharing with you a more typical parenting moment in my life:
Went to the pool the other night for a relaxing night by the pool. Was functioning on little sleep. Got everybody to the pool after breaking into a complete sweat. Got to the pool and forgot swim diaper. Went back home to get swim diaper and then back to pool. All the kids jumped in the pool and the lifeguard blew the whistle for break time. Kids got out of pool. Baby scraped on old wound and bled profusely all over the side of the pool and on the table where we were about to eat. Cleaned up blood with baby's socks because I couldn't find the wipes. Lifeguard brought a band aid which baby mistook for a torture device and let out one of those screams where she doesn't breathe for 2 minutes. Baby cried for next 15 minutes. Break time finally ends, so the kids jump in the pool. Began to thunder so lifeguard told kids to get out of pool. Time to eat supper. Waitress brought out food, and I realized I had only ordered my own food and had forgotten to order my children's food. Children shocked and in disbelief that their mother would forget their food. Waitress also in disbelief . Me too. Began to wish the drain in the middle of the pool would swallow me up. Waited 30 more minutes for kids food while the baby uses my body as a jungle gym. One of the meals never came. Swam for fifteen minutes in which it was all I could do to keep my fully skirted Lands End tankini on with the kids hanging on my bathing suit straps. Called it a day and went home.

Needless to say, after moments like these, I am incredibly thankful when God gives me one of those sweet moments that I imagined parenting would be like before I had children. Thank you, Father, that even in the midst of all the chaos, and even in my failures and weaknesses, you are still there guiding me and carrying my children.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Let your light so shine before men...

24 x 24Matthew 5:16 Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven.




My grandmother kept a small wooden box in the center of her kitchen table. It was called "God's Treasure Chest" and was filled with small colored cards that each had a different bible verse typed in an old timey typewriter font. When my father and his siblings were young, every morning, my grandmother reached into the treasure box and pulled out a scripture card to read to her young children. She often wept as she read them as she lost my grandfather at a very young age and was left to raise four young children alone.
There was a photo of my grandfather that hung on the wall in the room where I slept when I visited her. I can remember, after being tucked into bed, staring at his picture on the wall to see if maybe I could discover something about him, some insight into who he was, since I never had the privilege of knowing him. He stared back at me with the kindest eyes, and I knew he must have been a loving man. He was the pastor of the First Baptist Church when he died and was a deep lover of the word of God. I have been blessed enough in my adult life to hear his voice in tapes of his sermons and get a glimpse of his heart by reading his letters and teachings on the Word of God. All that to say, the Word of God was important to my grandparents and hence, "God's treasure chest" sat in the middle of the table where they gathered for home cooked meals.
Whenever I visited my grandmother's home, I used to love to thumb through that wooden box and read the worn and faded scripture cards. There was never a time when that box did not sit in the center of her table. There were not many things I asked for when my grandmother passed away many years ago, but I did ask for a few books that she had read to me often and the little wooden box. It seems as if it is always the simplest things from my childhood that bring back the sweetest memories. I can remember sitting in her small kitchen, with her tea pot whistling to let us know her water was ready for tea, while I sat quietly arranging and rearranging the cards in her treasure box. I remember the crocheted, afghan like cover that she kept over the extra role of toilet paper in her bathroom, and the candy bowl that always stayed full of toffee and butterscotch. I remember the set of bronze praying hands on her bookshelf and the piano where she taught me to play Silent Night.
Anyway, it was the small details that she probably never even thought about that I remember the most in her home. The treasure box was one of those simple things, and I don't really know why I had such an affection for the little wooden box, but I did. As a child, I certainly didn't understand the scriptures in it as they were all from the King James version; nevertheless, there was something about that box that was sacred to me. Upon her death, my dad and his siblings were gracious enough to allow me to be the guardian of "God's treasure chest" and it sits on the bookshelf in my library.
When I began the painting above, I knew I wanted the painting to be cheerful and bright, but I wasn't clear on a scripture for it. While in the midst of painting this, I was involved in a wonderful bible study called "Experiencing God" in which the lesson of the week was on walking in the light. That is one of those phrases that I've heard a million times but don't know that I've ever really taken the time to understand. My teacher had reminded us that morning of the bible school song, "This little light of mine." The song ran through my mind most of that morning and into the afternoon. I couldn't get it out of my mind even as I was playing with my children later that day.
I began thinking about what it means to "let our lights shine" and not hide them under a "bushel" as the song says. I began thinking that maybe these paintings were a way of letting that light shine. While we were playing, I took a trip to the restroom, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw something sitting on the back of the toilet. I then recognized that it was one of my grandmother's scripture cards from the treasure chest. It was pink and worn and something had been spilled on it in its many years on the kitchen table. It read "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven." (pictured below)

I have no idea how the card got there. I suppose my children had discovered the box and pulled out a few of the cards, but I think the little hands that put it on the back of that toilet were guided by God so that I would see that scripture that day. It was one of those moments where I knew for certain He had something to say to me, a message to deliver.
I absolutely love the way God works and the way he speaks to his children. He speaks in unusual ways, and that day, he used a trip to the restroom and an old and worn scripture card on the back of a toilet seat to confirm his message to me. I immediately knew that the painting above would be about letting our lights shine before men.
At times, I am tempted to shrink back with these paintings and this blog and hide all of it under a "bushel"(what in the world is a bushel, anyway?). But this verse continues to ring in my ear: "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven." I pray that somehow these paintings would be a way of letting the light of Jesus shine through my life and that these "good works" would glorify my Father in heaven. Amen.

Note: "Let your light shine before men" is written around the inside edge of the vase in the painting above.




Thursday, June 10, 2010

Patience in Pots

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Psalm 27:14 Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

Several years ago, my precious grandmother passed away, and after much prayer and consideration, we decided to move into the home in which she had lived for the latter part of her life. She built her house next door to the home where she had raised her children and where my mother now lives. One of my grandmother’s passions was gardening and flower arranging, so when she built the home, she built a beautiful rose garden right next to the pathway to our kitchen door. The iron plaque that sat at the entrance to her garden still sits there today. It reads, “Enrapt I sat in the quiet hour and found my soul in the heart of a flower.” She found so much joy in flowers and was incredibly talented in growing and arranging them.
I have always loved flowers and clearly see God’s love written all over them, but never have had much of a knack for growing them or caring for them. We tried caring for the roses for a while after she died, but the plants had gotten old and needed to be replaced. My husband loves the thought of farming, so we replaced the flowers with a vegetable garden in which my husband takes great pride in growing beautiful vegetables.
This spring, I was searching for an activity for my four year old, Virginia, so we went out to my grandmother’s green house where she stored lots of different size clay pots. We took out 9 or 10, found some leftover flower seeds from last year, and went about planting a miniature garden. Virginia loved poking the seeds down into the dirt and would have used every pot in the greenhouse if I had allowed her. She then took each of her pots, one by one, and placed them on the garden wall so that they could soak up the sun. She faithfully watered them every day with my grandmother’s old tin watering can. Within a day or two, they began to sprout. Every time a new one would peek its way out of the dirt, she would run inside to find me and shout that her pots had sprouted. Her eyes doubled in size at the sight of those sprouts, and I will never forget the smile that spread across her little face. You would have thought the resurrection had just occurred in our household. And in a sense it had. To a four year old and to me as well, a plant growing out of a seed is almost as much of a miracle as Jesus being raised from the dead. Einstein said that either everything is a miracle or nothing is a miracle, and in my four year olds opinion, a miracle had occurred in her miniature garden.
My older daughter, Mary Helen, saw what fun we were having with Virginia’s garden, so she had to have one as well. She found several pots and planted them with new seeds and set them out on the garden wall. She was very proud of her garden, which at the time was only dirt, but she showed it to all of her friends that came over to play and anyone who was willing to look. She watered it every day with the same tin watering can, but nothing happened. There were no sprouts, just dirt and a few weeds. She began to get discouraged, and I was tempted to switch out one of her pots for Virginia’s so that Mary Helen could at least have one bloom. But my spirit said no, that this was a wonderful exercise in patience.
We left for the beach with her garden having no blooms and fully expected to come back with pots full of blooms. I even arranged for it to be watered everyday while we were gone. When we pulled into the garage after our drive home from the beach, they both ran into the garden to check their plants. Virginia’s plants were a foot high, but Mary Helen still had none. Mary Helen looked crushed and confused. It didn’t make any sense to her. Why would Virginia’s bloom so quickly and hers take so long. Her father finally discovered that her pots had been placed in a spot that wasn’t getting enough sunlight.
Mary Helen has had to start all over, plant a new garden, and wait again for the first sign of a sprout. I know when it finally appears, the sight of that first plant will be so much sweeter than if it had come up the first day. Although Virginia’s joy was incredibly precious, I can only imagine what Mary Helen’s will be when those sprouts finally emerge.
Like Virginia’s pots, at times, I have prayed for things and see God work immediately. There is so much joy in seeing him work quickly, and God is so gracious in those moments. At times, though, I have prayed and seen nothing happen for so long that it begins to feels as if He will never come. But when He finally does, the victory is so much sweeter and the joy is so much greater.
I could have intervened by swapping one of Mary Helen’s pots with Virginia’s and she would have never known, but she would have missed the sweetest part, the lesson in patience. Just as Mary Helen couldn’t understand why Virginia’s pot bloomed and hers would not, aren’t we so often confused and crushed when God doesn’t do things in our timing. Sometimes I hear God saying that it’s not about the bloom or the victory, though He desires to give us those things, but it’s about the lessons and the things we learn in the process. He is equally as gracious to us in those moments where he requires us to wait. He is giving us a gift that we can’t buy in any store, the gift of his hand molding us and producing in us the fruit of patience. “Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” (Psalm 27:14) He wants to give you the desires of your heart.

Note: I wrote this in memory of my late grandmother, Helen Jordan. I think of her often when we are in the garden, and I can still picture the beautiful flower arrangements that adorned her house and her church. I am thankful that my children are learning these amazing lessons about life, in the garden that she built. I still cannot call it my own, as it will always feel like hers to me. She was a special and dear lady whom I miss so much, but I pray she can look down from heaven and see my sweet children planting and growing in the space where she once did the same.


Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Let no one cause me trouble...

28 x 20 Galatians 6:17 Finally, let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus.
This is a painting of my 4 year old daughter, Virginia. It is a picture of the freedom and joy that I pray my children will walk in. There is nothing that brings me greater joy than to see my children unafraid and uninhibited in expressing their joy. Virginia loves to perform. She has never taken a dance class in her life, but she sleeps in her leotard and her older sister's tap shoes almost every night. When she asks for milk, she turns the request into a song and every visit to the toy store, she chooses a musical instrument of some sort. She loves to put on sing and dance performances (she calls them "parades"), in which she eats up our applause. Like every child, she has her whiny days, but when she is rested, she skips wherever she goes and keeps us laughing all the time. Recently, she told me in the most serious tone, "I feel so sorry for daddy. He hasn't gotten to see me all day." Most of the time, she is incredibly pleased with herself and the person that God has created her to be. There are times when we go out that I see her shrink back some and become afraid of being herself. Those moments are rare with her, but there is nothing that breaks my heart more than when I see my children shrink back from who they are in an effort to escape rejection or gain others approval. She has been fearfully and wonderfully made by our heavenly Father with her own set of gifts that God intends to use to draw others to him, and my heart's desire is that she would be confident in who she is.
It struck me as I was writing this that the same way I feel when I see my children inhibited by the fear of man, is the same way our Father feels when we shrink back from the divine creation He has made us to be. I imagine there is nothing that brings him more joy than to see his children expressing their joy freely, walking confidently in the truth of who they are in Christ. John writes to a mother and her children in 2 John 1:4, "It has given me great joy to find some of your children walking in the truth, just as the Father commanded us." As Virginia grows in her relationship with Christ, she will have a choice to make. She will either believe the Truth and allow God to define her or she will believe the world and allow it to define her. At times, the world will tell her that she is not good enough, that she must change in order to be loved, but God will tell her that she is his treasured possession (Deut. 7:6), fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) by Him in love. He will tell her that He delights in her and that she is beautiful the way that she is. The first time a boy attempts to breaks Virginia's heart, I pray that she will say the same words she said about her daddy, "I feel so sorry for him. He hasn't gotten to see me all day." I pray that in those moments, she would choose to believe God, that she would "let no one cause (her) trouble", for she "bears on (her) body the marks of Jesus." He created her and He alone defines her. Amen.