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.

celebrate the mess

I am a perfectionist. 

Hands down.

Those who know me well know this to be true. I struggle and stress to get straight A's in school, to be the perfect mom, daughter, sister, and friend, and to do things the "right" way. The problem, however,  is simply that I'm human, and therefore have a nature tendency to err on imperfection.  

This semester in school has been challenging for me, as well as the circumstances that have seemed to dictate the direction and speed of my life the past few months.  I have worried, stressed, and strived to hold myself and my life together in an effortless manner. The truth is, though: life is messy. It is often a chaotic, confusing, uncontrolled, helter-skelter whirlwind that we find ourselves in the midst of.  Life is fast and we must keep moving to keep up with it. But we also must slow down enough to celebrate and enjoy the madness. 

This painting was an attempt to do just that, to celebrate the mess of life.  As much as I tried to create a mess in this painting , I kept wanting to perfect it. So I fought it, not because I don't enjoy life or because I can't handle a little chaos-- but because it wasn't perfect.  It seemed flawed and defective in some way and I wanted to give up and start over. I grew so frustrated with the painting that I wanted to punch a hole through it and call it a day. One of my friends came over while I was painting and I expressed my frustration to her.  She asked why I was disappointed with it, and I explained that it wasn't perfect and I wanted it to be perfect.  She reminded me though, that it wasn't about it being perfect. It was an experiment, an expression of my heart, and the whole point of the painting was being fulfilled despite my frustration. 

So I let it be. I took a break and came back the next day. And you know what? I liked it. I appreciated it. And I saw the beauty in it.

Do you see it too?

"Life is not meant to be easy, my child; but take courage-- it can be delightful."

[-George Bernard Shaw]

my heart

I painted this piece a few weeks ago and haven't, until now, had time to post it on the blog. So here ya go.

It honestly took me awhile to like this painting, which is maybe why I haven't been very motivated to post it. I thought the open part at the top was too plain, too empty. But after some time, I grew to appreciate it and feel that it was and is really part of the piece.  It makes sense.

To me, this painting is a reflection of my heart. There is joy and beauty, confusion and pain, truth and innocence. Most intriguing though, is the dark, empty space-- not meant to symbolize darkness, hatred, or a void. But instead to represent depth.  I believe in each of us there are unknown and secret places, spaces left to discover and unveil. 

It is the secret of life.

 "It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world." 

[-Sylvia Plath, "A Poem for Three Voices."]

a light in the darkness

Recently I've been feeling like I'm in limbo- somewhere in between being okay and not.  I'm in the midst of a tough situation and I feel like I often find myself in a state of confusion, feeling conflicted and unsure of what to do.

Such is how I was feeling yesterday when I painted this piece.

This painting actually started out green, believe it or not.  I almost always start my painting with a black background because I like to bring light to the darkness. I decided to try something different this time, although you obviously can't tell anymore because the green is all but completely covered. It was a nasty shade of green though, so you're really not missing much.

The way I view this painting is exactly the way I was feeling at the time: confused and conflicted.  The mixed of colors, lines, shapes, and textures create a sense of chaos almost.  The darkness appears to be seeping in and overshadowing the light along with everything else in sight.  You almost feel like the darkness is dripping or falling down, as if it is about to cover the entire painting completely. But alas, it is not.  The light  is illuminating and erasing the darkness.  

That is what I seek to portray through this painting. That although I feel troubled at times, I can have hope.  Even when it feels like the darkness is closing in on me, it can not extinguish my light.  

Light shines brighter in the dark.

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:5