rest

Rest.

Such a short word but such a hard concept to grasp.

For me at least.

Lately I feel like I'm always on the go. Even when my body is still, my mind is racing- always moving, planning, rearranging my schedule.  Little, simple decisions become something entirely too big in my mind, as I think of what will happen before, during, and after each event and how I need to be prepared for it.  And if something does not go according to plan (of which I can always count on, because my days never seem to go as "planned"), I freeze.  For some reason, I find it very challenging to cope with the change of plans, whether big or small.  Because, in my mind, everything interconnects. It's difficult for me to compartmentalize events and situations; I therefore have an even more difficult time being in the present moment, which makes me sad.

This is a struggle for many.

For me, I am trying to be more intentional about resting, not only my body, but more importantly my mind and my spirit. This is essential to my well-being and to my level of sanity. I am learning that if I take time to rest and revive my spirit, letting go of my obsessive planning and giving up my need for control, I am much happier, more relaxed, and can actually function much more successfully.  It seems simple, but it's such a discipline lately for me.  I feel like I am constantly reminding myself to slow down and to just do the next thing.  Then, when I'm done with that, to do the next thing- instead of thinking of everything I need to do from now until next Christmas, feeling completely overwhelmed, and freezing again. 

To rest does not necessarily mean laying down and taking a nap. Resting is experienced in many different ways and is unique to each person.  My mind needs a break more than my body most of the time. I do my best resting when I paint or sew or read or even exercise.  Resting, for me, means putting down the planner. It means living, breathing, focusing on the moment, this moment- no matter how many things seem to be pressing against us.

Just get up and do the next thing.

Simple, right?

old rag

This is a painting that I created as a Christmas gift for my dad this year. I wrote him a letter explaining the meaning behind it and why I felt that it was meant for him; and while it is probably difficult for others to understand the backstory, I still wanted to post it. 

Here is a little blurb from the letter to my dad:

"When I think of your experience and look at the painting, a quote comes to mind: 'What we see depends mainly on what we look for' (John Lubbok).  If we look around and see fog, we get discouraged and feel that our journey was not/is not worthwhile.  Like the fog, our eyes are clouded and we are unable to see beyond the haze.  However, if we look for majesty, if we look for beauty, we see the promises of God, in the midst of the fog.  Even in the darkest night and in the cloudiest of fogs, the promise remains and if we search for it, we will find it."

enjoy :)

the art of breaking

In general, when we see or hear the word “remember” I feel like we associate it with remembering someone or something, as opposed to an experience or an emotion.  This can obviously vary by person or situation, but when I personally think of this word I tend to think of a memory of someone or associate it with a phrase such as “in remembrance of” or “in memory of.”

In the case of this painting, however, I chose the word “remember” for a different reason.  For me, I feel like I am constantly reminding myself to remember basic things. Like, remembering to breathe. Remembering that I’m loved.  Remembering that I’m free.  It may sound simple or even silly, especially in remembering to breathe because that’s such a basic and natural thing.  But I so often find myself holding my breath and when I finally realize this and remind myself to breathe, I am released in a way that I cannot adequately describe in words. It is an experience.

The other piece of this painting is what I like to think of as the art of breaking, represented by a butterfly made out of broken cds. It’s interesting, actually, because cds are a lot harder to break than you would think. I tried bending and smashing them but it took more strength than I first thought to actually break them. I think we are like this too. Our whole beings are bent and eventually shatter.  Yet, through the act of being broken, we are created into something new, something beautiful, and something that we could have never been without the breaking.

This painting was so frustrating for me because it has taken the longest time to finish it. WEEKS. Which is very unusual for me because I am typically able to crank out paintings in a couple hours.  This one really gave me a hard time though, and I had to keep coming back to it because I felt like it was incomplete and frustratingly imperfect.  I wanted it to tell a great story and really speak about what I’ve been learning and hearing.  I wanted it to move people.

Last night I finally let go, and instead of trying to fabricate something I let my hand take over and let my heart move me. 

This is what I came up with. 

This is where I’m at.

This is the art of breaking.

Lilies of the Field

The thought behind this painting is difficult for me to explain. For me, it was simply an expression of spontaneous worship and of joy, being in the place that I am right now, my heart finally knowing the truth.  The painting is first a reminder of God's faithfulness to provide, as he has constantly and consistently provided for me my whole life. His provision is unfathomable to me. In Matthew 6, Jesus talks about the lilies of the field and how if he clothes them, how much more will he clothe us and provide for us? Hence, I painted some flowers to remind me of this.  This painting is also a reminder to me that God is El Roi, the God who sees. He sees me in my brokenness, in my frustration, in my joy, when I cry out to him in anger, when I cry out to him in fear and in pain. He sees everything. Not only in the emotional and the spiritual realm, but also in the physical and in the natural. He sees into the depths of our beings, he sees our wounds.  He sees the wrongs committed against us and promises to bring forth justice. Although many times we feel abandoned by God, he promises to never leave us or forsake us. This we can be confident in. 

eyes that see

"What we see depends mainly on what we look for."

[-John Lubbok]

Royalty

This painting was created for and is dedicated to all my women of the world.  It is meant to capture the very heart of a woman.  The desire to be pursued, the desire to captivate, the desire to be beautiful. The desire and longing to be worthy, deeply loved, and cherished.

I named it "royalty' because that's what we, as women, were created to be.  Jesus created us and fashioned us to be queens.  And somewhere in the midst of our hardships, our relationships, and the mundane days of our lives, we have lost sight of this.

We are His.

We are royalty.

And instead of being clothed in shame and guilt and fear, He clothes us in beautiful, royal purple robes, crowns us and calls us worthy.

freedom calls

I just returned home from an incredible week at the DIVE school in Texas. I painted a lot while I was there so I have a series of paintings that I will be posting in the next few days. So, stay tuned! :)

This painting is a two piece design, simply meaning that the two canvases fit together to form one painting; and in this case, the shape of a tree.

The bottom half of the tree is meant to portray the hardships of life, sin, and the darkness that we so often find ourselves caught in the midst of. At times, it is a suffocating, demobilizing, and hopeless place to be.  Darkness tends to cloud our vision and make our hearts cry out: "set me free."

This has been the cry of my heart over and over again the past few years. Through moments of freedom and joy, there is still a darkness that lurks, waiting for a moment alone with me, when it can draw me in again. For me, shame and fear have been two of the biggest factors and weak spots in me that so often allow the darkness to seep in again.  And I give in, again and again. I cry out for freedom and for my chains to be broken- forgetting that all along, my chains HAVE been broken and I AM already free.

Because here's the thing: Jesus came so that we could be free. He died so that we could live in freedom and not have to be burdened by shame or guilt or fear or sadness, or whatever it is that sucks us into and locks us in the darkness. In Galatians 5:1 it says that "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free."  Is that not clear enough? We ARE free. But we have to live that and breathe that for ourselves.  The price has already been paid; we just need to claim it.

The second part of Galatians 5:1 says that "Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery."  This means that we have to not only turn away from the darkness- we have  to FIGHT it at times. And continue to believe and claim what is already ours.

The upper half of the painting, as you can see, is lighter in color and in form.  Words like "restoration", "redemption," and "hope" line the branches. You may notice that I repeated the word "freedom" a few times and that was no accident. I wanted to emphasize the word and emphasize the fact that we are free, and have freedom, from all of the things that hold us down, because of what Jesus did on the cross.

embrace that. accept that. claim that today.

you.are.free.