Original Art

“For we are God’s handiwork (masterpiece) . . .” Ephesians 2

He was just fooling around. Playing, really. Dipping his brush in the paint, he let it go in this or that direction until there was an intriguing, unique piece of art on the canvas before him. Unlike other pieces he’d done, he didn’t judge this one. He let it be. Later that semester, the art student painted over the spontaneous work and created something assigned. It was conventional, like the others in the class, and he was commended for his efforts. Many years later, once a successful artist, the man found the old painting. Using the most current techniques and chemicals, he removed the painting he did for class and found the spontaneous work beneath. There was something about it, something that made him smile, and he framed the piece and hung it in his studio.

The story speaks to my life and, perhaps, yours as well. I believe we were all unique works of art, made in a spontaneous creative moment by God, the divine artist. Rather than celebrate our uniqueness, we strove to be like others. Whether by wearing certain clothes, following conventional career paths, going on the same vacations, posting the same pictures, or living in specific neighborhoods, we did our utmost to look like others (and then tried to be unique in all our sameness!)

I believe the time comes when we long for something more – not more of the same, but more of the one-of-a kind. Deep down, we long for our unique, authentic, original selves. We know he or she is in there, somewhere! The problem is there are layers of paint we need to remove. It takes work, spiritual work, to remove the layers of paint, and that work requires patience, and trust. It might take longer than we would like, cause reactions we’d rather not hear . . . but when the hunger is great enough so will be our strength.

May this be the year we stop adding, and start removing, the layers. Deep within us all is a unique piece of art. May we begin the work of finding it today.

2023: Grab less; Open more

I was blessed with abundant Christmases as a child. The tree was surrounded by gifts, and it took all morning and then some to open them all. Yes, I was blessed, but I was also exhausted by it all. Rather than savor this sweater or ball, I looked for the next unopened package. In the end, I sat surrounded by gifts and paralyzed by which one I should focus on.

Unfortunately, I do the same with my life, and it’s never more apparent than at the start of a new year. With high hopes and countless expectations for the coming year, I get lost in all the possibilities surrounding me. Like a child, I don’t know where, or on what, to focus.

This year, I’m trying something different. Rather than grab (this gift or that, this resolution or that) I’m going to open my hands. Aware of the many gifts I’ve been given, I want to receive this year, this day, this moment, this person, this opportunity, this challenge as the gift it is. I don’t want to force it to be more than it is, nor do I want to diminish or dilute it. Remembering the many who were not given 2023, I want to breathe deep and, with a profound sense of gratitude, walk into this year with a grateful and obedient heart. I want to show up and be present and see what God has in store for me.

My hunch is it will be more than I can imagine. All I have to do is grab less and open more.

Getting Choked Up

These are difficult days, goes the refrain for those who are struggling during the holidays. The lights, decorations, and music are emotional triggers for some, and instead of being a season of joy it becomes a season of sadness.

As I listened to someone getting choked up talking about it, I thought about why this season carries such power. While I have always adored Christmas, there’s a deep longing and sadness that lie beneath the surface. Thinking of my childhood and Christmases with my children, I can get pulled beneath the surface of the season and closer to my soul’s deepest longings. Like my friend, I get choked up easily at this time of year.

Fred Buechner, one of my favorite spiritual writers, said that when we get choked up, when our hearts ascend into our throats, we should pay attention. It’s then that our defenses are lower, and our souls are closer. In a season when we talk about God being with us, when we’re reminded of the gift of family and friends, when the losses of life point us to the sacredness of every minute, it is little wonder why we find ourselves getting choked up.

To be unable to sing a carol because our heart is in our throat is a reason to give thanks for the gift of this time of year. It's difficult because it matters. The petty stuff we so often focus on slips away and we face the memories, blessings, and longings found only in our souls. No wonder we get choked up.

May it always be so.