Laws

   The Lord called to Moses from the Tabernacle and said to him, "Give the following instructions to the people of Israel." Leviticus 1:1

  And so began the book of instructions about everything: offerings, cleansing, hygiene, food preparation, personal conduct, festivals...pretty much every aspect of Jewish life was now governed by God's Law.

  It also struck me how God called to Moses from the Tabernacle...even communion with God was governed by strict adherence to the required protocol according to God's instructions about building the Tabernacle in the first place.

  I heard somewhere there were roughly 600 Laws instructing Jewish people how to live.

  I also heard that somewhere along the line, God's people had a grand time of adding to those Laws. Jesus frequently berated the Pharisees for unnecessarily burdening His people. 

  A friend shared that her new stove came with a Sabbath setting because of Jewish Laws about doing no labour on the Sabbath. While she didn't share what the stove did on the Sabbath, the setting was there because modern keepers of the Law have agreed that pushing buttons is laborious. Maybe they reached this decision because if you were able to push a button to start the stove, it might lead to boiling a kettle or cooking or feeding a family or a houseful of guests on God's day. Pushing a button would lead you to sin against God's command of resting on the Sabbath. It makes perfect sense.

  This provides tangible evidence that the Torah, the Old Testament of the Bible containing all God's laws, is still pertinent to today for Jewish people. If it is, then so are the teachings of Jesus, written long ago for His followers. While the Gentiles at the time had no written laws governing their lives, then, as in today, there are unwritten laws that govern nearly every aspect of our lives.

  I've spent a lot of time trying to get out from under them.

  

  This is also giving me a fresh perspective towards understanding the Anti-racism, Anti-oppression movement. It aims to rewrite the unwritten rules that discriminate against people who are different.

  In North America, there used to be actual laws specifically for those whose skin isn't white like mine. While the legal ammunition has been taken off the books, there's still a whack of cultural stigma (laws) that continue to foster hate and suspicion and inequality.

  Every culture has them. That's a sad realization.

  I have found myself pondering the history of human civilization only to realize there isn't much civility in it. Time and again, a race of people were wiped off the face of the planet. Time and again, we would go to war over a difference in beliefs. Time and again, we would want what someone else had and take it by force. 

  

  Do I have any hope that things might change?

  Yes. Because I have finally understood there is no room for love in the law...any law written or unwritten that seeks to punish, discriminate, suppress, restrict, and build mistrust will one day have no home in my heart. What God has healed in me will be paid forward.

  Thank You, Lord, that You will help me be aware of the places in my heart where love is missing.

  AMEN!

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

Laughter

    "For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him." Philippians 2:13

  Some mornings it's hard to know what to write about. 

  Some mornings I waken, unsettled and disturbed by the vague memory of unpleasant dreams.

  It was lovely to start the day laughing with my friend over some silly nonsense. It chased the uneasiness away.

  Last night closed with different laughter over different silliness. Innocent fun, all of it.

  I have to give thanks to the Lord for this gift of a laughing friend. 

  We laugh at ourselves more than we laugh at each other. 

  We laugh at the situations we find ourselves in. 

  It's such a simple thing, really, but for me it is far more valuable than gold. 

  It's kind and gentle with no room for malicious mockery or sarcasm. It's one that doesn't cause shame or embarrassment. 

  It gives life.

  I like to think Jesus is with us as we wipe the laughter tears away only to look at each other and start laughing all over again. I imagine He has a huge grin on His face as we both discover a joy that chases the ghosts of the nasty kind back to where they belong.

  I am so, so, so grateful. 

  I had no idea this is what life should be like because this is something I have never had before. Ever.

  How can you miss what you have never known?

  Until you have it and realize what was missing.

  I am so, so, so grateful I have a God who will restore all that the locusts have eaten.

AMEN!

  

  

  

  

   

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer: Wrapping Up

   "I (Jesus) tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me were thieves and robbers. But the true sheep did not listen to them. Yes, I am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved. They will come and go freely and will find good pasture. The thief's purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life." John 10:7-10

  It's good to be back here, writing. There were some issues with Google so I was unable to access anything under their umbrella until the problem got fixed. It was a long, long forty-eight hours without the frequently used Google search and having no access to my email. I am thankful it has been resolved.

  This unplanned for break has provided some time to reflect on all that's been shared about the Art of Prayer and to pray about what the next steps might look like. I don't have a clear answer on that, yet, just a gentle nudging to begin investigating a location to host an in person group of curious people.

  If you build it, they will come. (A favorite line from the movie "Field of Dreams.")

  Smile. There is a barrage of nay-saying going on in my head. It would appear many of the objections that come in the way of trying our hand at art are transferable. The Yahbut is having a grand time of it this morning.

  You probably know this about me already, how doing new things is utterly terrifying. Changes in routine are equally so but if I let the fear stop me...it wins. If I let him, the thief steals the measurable possibilities out from under God's immeasurable ability to help us overcome all obstacles. 

  All of these posts about the Art of Prayer, the explorations and encouragements all boils down to this:

  Are you willing to try? 

  Are you willing to speak to God visually?

  Are you willing to miss the mark? 

  Are you willing to learn from this and try again? 

  Are you willing to give yourself, your time, your mind and your body, to the prayer process for even five minutes?

  Are you willing to kneel and be humbled by the incredible grace of God who meets us where we are at?

  Are you willing to let God unlock your heart?

  Are you willing to listen?

  

  Are you willing...that's all that matters.

  I have to stop reinforcing the idea that I need to be afraid of new things and routine changes. The negative things we speak over ourselves gains a stronger foothold the more we repeat them. It's like we are poisoning ourselves one word at a time.   

  Forgive me Lord, for doing this to myself, for believing the lies. Help me remember to speak life giving words in their place. In you, there is no place for fear. With you, fear will be overcome.

  Repentance is a turning away from the things of death and a turning towards the things of life. Repentance is walking through the Jesus gate.

  If we are willing.

  This is my favorite part of being a Christian: God will never, ever force us to do anything.

 

  While I have never painted my pasture, I have imagined what it would look like. It has evolved over time, gaining clarity the more times spent visiting the place that resides in my heart. Jesus is finally in the picture. I waited a long time to see Him there. (Smile. He waited until I was ready to see Him there!)

  What does your pasture look like? How is the fence made? Is there a stream? A river running through it? Are there animals with you? Flowers? Is the sun shining? Or is life giving rain falling softly to the ground? Is your pasture nestled in a mountain valley or is it part of a vast prairie landscape? What else do you see there? 

  Is there a gate?

  Is it open?

  Yup.

  Hear my prayer, O God. 

  I lift the artists up to you, the ones who have been buried by time and trial. I lift the creator spirits up to you, the ones crushed by regulations and rules. I lift the playful heart up to you, the ones silenced for propriety's sake. I lift them up to you so they may be set free, so they may know the rich pastures You have prepared for them. In Jesus name, AMEN!

  

  

   

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 21

  "The Lord is my shepherd, I have all that I need. He lets me rest in green meadows, he leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name." Psalm 23:1-3

  He leads me, us. It's why I am sitting here this morning pondering the idea of bunny trails. It's an expression used to describe wandering off topic during a discussion or while writing. We often apologize for doing this but I believe there is a place for bunny trails in prayer life.

  We offer specific prayers for friends and family, for ourselves and in gratitude. Prayer is used in spiritual warfare and to give blessings. I have often found myself checking off the boxes to make sure the necessary topics or requests for the day were covered. Not that there's anything wrong with this, not one bit! God hears our prayers.

  The question is, do our prayers allow space for us to hear Him?

  The Art of Prayer is giving the space and time to have a conversation with God. 

  Bunny trails have a place here because I believe it's the Lord leading the focus elsewhere or on a particular idea that needs unravelling or discussion with Him. 

  But what if it isn't God? How do we know? 

  First of all, just ask Him. (Smile. That seems like a rather trite answer but seriously, just ask!)

  Secondly, trust that He will make your path straight. 

  I think back to when God called me to the drafting table and I obeyed Him for the first time. It was the beginning of using art as a way of learning about my new faith and this Jesus person who was only there because I figured I had nothing to lose. Sitting there, drawing, I began to recognize I didn't have to control what happened in the art. 

  Obedience has a bad name, doesn't it? Obedience is usually demanded by someone else who is in control. Enforcing obedience is about maintaining power. (Smile. No, don't drive 120KM/hr in a school zone. That's not what I mean.)

  Obedience to God is different because it's not about suppression. Obedience to God is a turning away from the evil in this world. 

  It brings joy and fulfillment. Not just for ourselves, but for others, too.

  Obedience to God is finding rest in the green pastures where the river slips slowly by. 

  The sun is shining here today and playing peek-a boo with the clouds. There's a couple of bunnies grazing on the lush clover just out of arm's reach. Jesus is here, too. He bends over to gently pat the soft fur. He smiles. He has plans for where this bunny will lead.

  I wonder where yours will take you? 

 Oh. The bunny's name is Curiosity.

  

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 20

 "Help us, O God of our salvation! Help us for the glory of your name." Psalm 79:9

  The driveway is surrounded by two foot snow banks except for beside the south facing side of the house. When blasted by sunshine the snow melts quicker here than anywhere else in the yard. It's sheltered from the cool March breeze, too. The soft green shoots of crocuses are making an appearance in this mini-tropical zone. Each year, these early signs of spring are a welcome sight! 

  My granddaughter and have been connecting for a weekly art lesson via Zoom. She is interested in fashion and would like to know how to draw her designs. It's the one area I have very little experience with so I told her I don't know much about it. 

  We didn't have a session last week due to March break, the annual school holiday here in Canada, but I spent some time sketching a figure in a ball gown. The figure basically amounted to a coat hanger with legs and a head and worked very well. It helped me discover that I had missed the point of fashion art...it's about the clothes, it's not a portrait. I think I can help her find her style of drawing designs. Starting with the clothes hanger person. It's exciting to be able to open the door for her and see what happens!

  

  Since starting to explore the Art of Prayer, I have wrestled with sharing the artwork created during my own time with God. It's the old guilt/discomfort that it will make others feel badly about what they can draw or paint. (It would be better not to show it if that's the case.) It might stop others from venturing into this prayer format because of their own inexperience with art...yada, yada, yada....

  Is it arrogance and pride? 

  Or is it something different altogether? 

  This particular broken feather still has the power to tickle my conscience. Regardless, it's not of God so I will continue to share when led to do so by the Holy Spirit. His is the Voice I choose to listen to.

  

  There is no such thing as coincidence. 

  A Ted talks video came across my path the other night by Graham Shaw. It's a fun and lighthearted exploration about "Why people believe they can't draw."

  It's worth checking out!

  In the video, C's and sixes, dashes and short lines create the recognizable features of a face. Graham simply changes the size of the C's and lines to create a completely different face! It's fascinating how easy it is to depict emotion and expression by moving a line up or down, left or right. 

  

  Did you know graphic designers don't have to know how to draw? Trace, copy and paste is how they create.

  Did you know very few artists are celebrated as masters until after they are dead?

  Just sayin'.

  There was an artist, James Lumbar, who would do a landscape then superimpose a ghostly image from the past. His paintings started out as a powerful and poignant illustration of the passage of time. The popularity of his work caused him to systematically produce painting after painting along this theme. He lost something along the way. His later works, while technically great, lost the ability to stir the heart. 

  Maybe that's all art is: a way to stir the heart and the imagination. 

  If a coat hanger with a head and legs can invoke images of a tall, lithe model, anything is possible!

  

  (Smile.) And I have no problem waiting until I am in heaven to be famous. AMEN!

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 19

  Again, I offer a warning that the contents of this post may be disturbing to some readers.

 "What sorrow for those who say that evil is good and good is evil, that dark is light and light is dark, that bitter is sweet and sweet is bitter." Isaiah 5:20

  This is what came out of the original giant thumbnail drawing. The original will not be published here because it is too raw and contains some disturbing graphic images. Honesty can be ugly some times. 

  All I could think as this piece evolved is how much greater Jesus' grief must be, a million times a million times anything I could ever, ever feel over the treatment of children past, present and, sadly, the future. 

  While I have used Roman Catholic religious clothing and symbols in the top part, Anglican church ministers also wear the collar and has nuns within its order. They usually wear blue. I want to make it clear, the Roman Catholic church is not alone in their responsibility for the deaths of millions of children around the world. I chose these uniforms because they are widely recognized as religious symbols representing Christian faith.

  As someone who belongs to a church still reeling from it's own sexual abuse scandal, in no way am I only laying this grief at the feet of one particular order. Governments facilitated the opportunities for predators of all faiths to go unchecked. Not only in Canada and the US, but Australia, New Zealand, India, Russia, Norway, Finland, Mexico...the residential schools were a globalized religious weapon of power and control whose sole purpose was the destruction and assimilation of "illegitimate" children, Aboriginal and native peoples. 

  

  The open book, a Bible, has red lightening flashing from it's pages because God's Word has been used to justify the abuse and punishment of the innocent. The Rosary, a symbol of prayer and devotion, has a shovel instead of a cross at its end even though the priests rarely did such manual labour...it was left to the children to bury their own.

  The nuns, whose hands are held in prayer, contain broken crosses because they neglected to teach the children about the love of God. A God who gave His Son so that anyone and everyone may live and know His unconditional love. 

  The broken feather not only represents the tens of thousands of children worldwide who were taken from their families, it is a symbol of broken innocence. It is a symbol of clipped wings and the destruction of the potential children have. In place of potential, the church and state laid the foundation for addictions, suicide, generational abuse, violence, prostitution, mental illness and more.

  The broken feather is also meant to represent God's spiritual wings, the ones the Psalmist wrote about; the place of shelter and comfort. God's wings were corrupted. Instead of offering shelter, they became a prison. Instead of protection, they were used to harm. Instead of grace and forgiveness, God's wings were used to justify the corporal and vicious punishment of the "sinful heathen child."

  Even writing about it, my heart fills with sorrow.

  The institution has a roof made of unmarked and forgotten graves. 

  The blinds and prison grade wire mesh on the building's windows hide the secrets of these church run, government endorsed orphanages, children's psychiatrics hospitals, and Residential schools. The interior is black except for the one red window...there are horrible things happening in that room.

  I am grateful the secrets have a way of escaping through the windows where the blinds are no longer completely closed.

  It all culminates around the kneeling figure of Jesus holding the dead, starved and broken body of a child. Although He was freed from His crown of thorns after His death and resurrection, the church put it back on in how they taught about Him.

  I am struggling not to judge the people who were part of this.

  How were and are such things even considered right? 

  Art is a powerful tool. 

  If I were to choose one image from this piece to explore further, it would be the broken feather. While I have used it as a representation of what the church has done, it behooves me to realize, as a parent, I also have broken feathers of a different kind in my hand; feathers broken through prejudice, sexism, ignorance and fear. God, forgive me for the harm I did to my children.

  I have also experienced someone breaking my own feathers. Lord, help me forgive them.

  Thank You, they are being repaired in my children's lives and my own. That's who God is: the repairer, the restorer, the Author of redemption and who holds a love for us that surpasses all understanding. AMEN! 

  Would you, dear reader, want to try drawing your own broken feather? Or maybe you need to draw a whole one. Sometimes the simplest of images speak the loudest. Don't forget to take a break every once in a while and if necessary, find someone to talk to about what you discover during your time with Him. Sometimes we need a little help or a person to debrief with. AMEN!

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 18

   "There are different kinds of spiritual gifts, but the same Spirit is the source of them all. There are different kinds of service, but we serve the same Lord. God works in different ways, but is the same God who does the work in all of us." 1 Corinthians 12:4-6

  The TV was tuned into "The Chosen," as I sat on the couch to work on the art prayer started a couple of days ago. It's not my usual spot but because of the depths of emotion getting stirred up, the show provided a buffer. It provided hope as the story of Jesus unfolds.

  It doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention to the Holy Spirit while colouring the various aspects of the image. He had much to say.

  Most of all I realized praying is a process of layers. Creating art is a layering process as well.

  It's why they fit so well together.

  There's an order to creation. It's a systematic, step by step process of invitation aimed at a final destination. 

  Hmmm...a process of invitation. I hadn't thought of that before. 

  Any work of art starts with an idea. It can be simple. It can be complex. The idea invites us to participate in a journey. Sometimes this means tossing the original idea out the window! 

  When I was in school learning how to be a graphic designer, every project began with thumbnail sketches: mini drawings that explored different layout ideas for an ad. One idea was chosen then expanded and polished into a final project fit for marking. This was just at the start of computer graphics when everything was still done manually even the lines on business forms...when did I get so old! 

  (If you want to explore the computer as a creative tool, go for it! Kudos to you if you already use one!)

  Layers. 

  Adding layers keeps us in the moment.

  Adding layers helps us travel alongside the Holy Spirit.

  Ironically, the concentration required stills our mind; a process most of us struggle with when we don't have anything to distract us from the minutia of day to day life. Concentration gives us the gift of being in the zone.

  Ah, yes, the zone.

  Have you ever been so utterly involved in reading a book that the world around you disappears? That's the zone. My friend is very patient with me when I am so immersed in creating a piece of art, I don't hear a word she says.

  The zone is the place the physical self disappears. The artist becomes the act of doing because the doing is all that matters. 

  The zone is being in the moment to the nth degree. That's why there's layers to creation. It can take time to reach this level of concentration which isn't really concentration. It is a complete surrender to the process, the layering, the building of a visual story or prayer. 

  It's why stepping back every once in a while is so important. Sometimes I get so involved in the making, I don't take time to hear what God is saying to me or through me. (My friend is in good Company!) 

  I am waiting to see if I am to share the prayer that has been in the works for the last couple of days. I have a strong sense it isn't finished yet. Part of me thinks it's a giant thumbnail, the birthplace of bigger ideas.

A Few Moments

   "Love one another as I have loved you."  Jesus

  I only have a few moments this morning but I wanted to share something that happened yesterday.

  My friend and I waited in line at the grocery store. A young woman who looked Asian was just finishing checking out. The woman behind her was dressed in military camo. The store is near an army base so this isn't an unusual sight.

  The young woman struggled with English but was paying close attention to how much the few items of food cost: a mere seventeen dollars. She held back a small bag of two fruit, checked her totals, then gave the bag to the cashier. Her total rang up and she had to give the bag back. She carefully counted out the few coins in her hand to pay for what she had bought.

  She began to pack up her groceries.

  The woman in fatigues stepped up for her turn with the cashier. She pointed at the bag of fruit and said she would buy it for the Asian woman. 

  The young woman was stunned when the cashier added the bag to her groceries. She looked at the soldier and offered her few remaining coins to help pay for the food.

  The soldier smiled, shook her head and said, "No, I've bought it for you."

  Kindness is still alive and well.

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 17

   Warning: The contents of this post may be disturbing to some readers. 

  "Therefore, this is what the Lord of Heaven's Armies says concerning the prophets, 'I will feed them with bitterness and give them poison to drink. For it is because of Jerusalem's prophets that wickedness has filled the land.'" Jeremiah 23:15

  There were several orphanages in Quebec during the forties and fifties. Once again, the Roman Catholic Church, its nuns and priests are at the centre of a story of physical and sexual abuse, human experimentation, neglect and murder. These Duplessis Orphans weren't necessarily orphans at all but may have been infants born out of wedlock or children who had been forcibly removed from their families due to poverty, unemployment or illness. 

  The name comes from the Quebec premier at the time who used his power to facilitate the opening and expansion of these facilities. 

  For funding purposes, many of these innocent children were mislabeled as mentally unstable. Entire orphanages became psychiatric facilities. There was more money in madness than care yet the care of these mislabeled children was basically non-existent. They were fed and watered. Sometimes.

  Seven religious communities were involved: the Sisters of Providence, the Sisters of Mercy, the Grey Nuns of Montreal, the Sisters and the Brothers of Charity, the Little Franciscans of Mary, the Brothers of Notre-Dame-de-la-Misericorde. (Wikipedia.)

  The Roman Catholic church, to this day, has denied any wrongdoing.

  There are hundreds if not thousands of unmarked graves outside these facilities where children who died were packed into cardboard boxes, buried and forgotten.

  In 2021, the few remaining survivors of these institutions were still seeking reparation for the trauma they suffered. There has been no admission of wrongdoing by the Church or the government to this day.

  How many others are out there? From different times and different places?  How many children are still trapped in a cycle of violence at the hands of their God fearing "care-takers?"

  I don't understand.

  I don't understand how people who have dedicated their lives to God can do such things; whose names are a lie. Where was charity? Or mercy?

  I don't understand how such violence and disregard for life was ever, ever considered a normal and acceptable practice by those who claim to serve the Lord. Yet...yet...and I weep...I have no doubt it still goes on today. 

  I don't understand...the horrific treatment of generations of Canada's Aboriginal children.

  I don't understand why the terrible things happened at the Catholic Boy's school in Newfoundland. 

  I don't understand why these Duplessis "sinful bastard" infants (the church's words, not mine) had no one to protect them

  Lord, I don't understand it at all.

  I am struggling not to be judge and jury.

  I am overwhelmed with grief knowing that throughout the world children are still exploited, enslaved, and left to die at the hands of man, religious or otherwise.

  

  Last night I came before the Lord and began drawing this pain and confusion. There were no words that could come remotely close to expressing my heart. It's not finished because I am not finished although part of me dreads spending time in the darkness that flowed from my pencil.

  It began with drawing the letters, "Hear my cry, O God."

  

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 16

   "Epaphras, a member of your own fellowship and a servant of Christ Jesus, sends you his greetings. He always prays earnestly for you, asking God to make you strong and perfect, fully confident that you are following the whole will of God." Colossians 4:12

  Home Town, a favorite reno show, was on TV last night. Erin Napier, one of the hosts, spent time with a client's child so they could create a painting. It was to be framed and hung on the gramma's bedroom wall. Erin is a professionally trained artist and designer who later shared with her TV audience that she wished she could paint as freely as a child. 

  She is incredibly talented and I was left feeling rather sad for her that she felt her artwork was less than perfect. Yet, she consistently sits in the discomfort of being unsure to allow creative expression to show itself.

  Hmm...discomfort. Much of what we do is a quest to alleviate discomfort: from comfy furnishings, to clothing, to pain killers, to miracle pills for weight loss. Advertisers know this well about us.

  

  Can I say that there's nothing wrong with feeling uncomfortable? Absolutely.

  Can I offer some reassurance that the discomfort won't last? No, I can't do that because discomfort is a foe who will try different tactics to stop us moving closer to God or worse, stop us from exploring the gifts he has given us. 

  Is discomfort the critic's child? Yup.

  Staying in the place of discomfort is a foreign concept for we humans who strive to eradicate discomfort from our lives. 

  What might happen by sitting alongside our discomfort for a bit? What if we sit here with a pencil in hand and wait and watch and listen? No, you won't die. (Smile.) You might find life!

  As someone living with PTSD, "out there" is a source of huge discomfort. Hypervigilance is an almost constant state of existence. I made a choice many years ago to not let it win. I didn't want to let the trauma fueled, broken brain, panic attack potential risk steal my freedom. Does it limit me? Yes. I choose my battles carefully.

  My first trip to Costco with a friend was a nightmare. By keeping her in my sights, I was able to somewhat ignore the "danger" of the crowds. Nevertheless, I was utterly exhausted when we left.

  Costco trips have gotten easier over time as the hypervigilance eases but I doubt I will ever go there alone. God knows. 

  Just having a friend alongside when I go new places has made all the difference in the world. It makes me wonder how I ever did it alone. Not that I was. It just felt that way.

  What does Paul say? Our wholeness and perfection lay in following the will of God. It's not in the things we create, nor the items we own or the places we go. It can't be found in our clothing or hairstyle. 

  Maybe we only need to be cognizant of our imperfections while trying, practicing, and allowing the Spirit to lead us to becoming more like Jesus. What's say we start with grace?

  Lord, as long as I live on the earth, everything I do or say or create will be imperfect. Don't let this stop me from drawing nearer to You: the Lord of my life who will perfect all my ways and make them straight. AMEN!

PS. I have been toying with the idea of including a small art exercise with each post about the Art of Prayer. If you want to explore something, draw a circle. Did you know our hand's anatomy makes it impossible for it to be perfectly round? Ovals are easier. 

  

   

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 15

   "There are many different languages in the world, and every language has meaning. But if I don't understand a language, I will be a foreigner to someone who speaks it, and the one who speaks it will be a foreigner to me. And the same is true for you. Since you are so eager to have the special abilities the Spirit gives, seek those that will strengthen the whole church." 1 Corinthians 14:10-12

  This is an excerpt from the letter Paul wrote to the Corinthians about speaking in tongues. Depending on where you are, there is a wide debate among various Christians about whether or not the gift of tongues is still a part of faith today. Some say this gift is a measure of how good a Christian you are, others say it was only for people in Jesus' time. I am going to remain neutral on this.

  I once watched a documentary where scientists connected electrodes to a nun who was willing to be a test subject. They wanted to test what was happening in her brain as she prayed in an unknown language. As she prayed, the sensors did their thing. The researchers were astounded to realize all the words she was forming did not come from the part of the brain where language is stored and created.  I forget which part became active but it doesn't really matter.

  There is so much we don't understand!

  

  The right side of our brain is where creativity resides. The left side is our logical, mathematical side therefore, artist's are all right brained. Sound familiar? 

  In no way am I a neuroscientist with any sort of expertise on the subject but let me share what I do know. Creating art uses far more of the brain than one side. It taps into the mathematical, measuring side where spatial recognition resides. Creating art uses the part where the body is run automatically. As adults, we don't think about what's needed to move a pencil across a piece of paper. Art uses the brain parts that govern vision and touch. Art taps into our memory banks like the one that holds the information about how to write. Art taps into emotions, too.

  They did an electrode experiment with a musician and every part of their brain was fired up and used to create art through sound.

  Scientists have also discovered how we are wired to worship and connect with God. He put that in our DNA when we were made at the beginning of creation.

  Praying through art is a whole brain exercise, too.

  Which means that even though one side of the brain may dominate how we think or approach life, it is possible to unite logic and creativity. Mathematical me thoroughly enjoys drawing mandalas. There is something comforting in laying out the circular grid with a compass, a protractor and a ruler. The grid fills me with the anticipation of seeing what different effects I can get by repeating a line around the whole circle. It's a very logical and calculated path to creating something beautiful. (There are often flaws in a hand drawn graph but, hey, it works. The circle graphs can be found online and printed if you want to give them a try. You can download completed ones to colour in, too.)

  It takes time to create one but doing them calms my busy mind and opens it up to hearing more from God. A while back, I shared my mandalas with someone and discovered there was actually a pattern. If I'd been away from the art for a while, there would be a series of three or four mandalas followed by a more prophetic (God focused) or personal exploration into an idea or thought or memory.

  Zentangles are another mathematical form of creative expression. I call it doodling with attitude as a page is filled with patterns and shapes. This art form can also still a busy mind (hence the name zen-tangles.) God is a God of pattern. They are everywhere. Zentangles celebrate them in their infinite variety. 

  If you want, check out fractal images. I've written about them before because they are so amazing! They are created using only mathematics and, oh, they are stunning! God is also a God of fractals. Simply put, one line becomes two becomes four becomes sixteen...like our circulatory system or the branches of a tree. Fractal mathematics enabled computer animators to create realistic mountains: the chaos of snow covered ridges and peaks are created by numbers.

  So no matter what type of brain God blessed you with, left dominated or right dominated, artistic expression is for everyone be it through geometry or a free flowing paint brush. Your brain can't wait to show you what it can do!

 

  For God's Glory! AMEN! 

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 14

   "And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, who will never leave you. He is the Holy Spirit, who leads into all truth. The world cannot receive him, because it isn't looking for him and doesn't recognize him. but you know him, because he lives with you now and later will be in you." John 14:16-17

  I am so grateful when the Lord grants me further insight into his nature. Jesus is telling the disciples that he is the Spirit-with-them, an outside and physically separate Advocate. I now understand why the indwelling Spirit only came after his death and resurrection. Although God is everywhere and everywhen, the Spirit and Jesus as a man could not be apart in this mortal place. Therefore, as long as the Disciples had Jesus walking and talking with them, they had his Spirit walking alongside them.

  Jesus died on the cross the moment he surrendered his Spirit to God. No mortal can survive without their spirit, the essence of life and personhood. 

  The Holy Spirit is the heart and person of Jesus, the perfect essence of Life itself!

  My head is about to explode because I thought I was keeping Jesus at arms length all this time. It's been a struggle to find some point of connection because of my past experiences with men.

  My head is about to explode!

  This time it's with joy because I've been awfully hard on myself for this lack of trust in Jesus.

  My head is about to explode!

  He's been at the kitchen table with me all along through his Spirit who guides both brush and words. I didn't even need to push back a chair for him to sit a while with me!

  I have a huge, silly big grin on my face right now for this forehead slapping big, "Duh!" But hey, you only know what you know until you know better. 

  I like better. 

  So, this is not what I expected to write about this morning. I had a whole agenda in place around speaking about the critic. I'd done two art pieces exploring the idea. The first collage was a bit of a slap-dash effort, rushed and self directed. How do I know? It feels flat and empty. Usually, there's a need, an urging to try again. This need holds no condemnation for not "getting it" the first time but is an invitation to explore. It's up to me if I want to.

  For the second one, I slowed down, taking the time to listen and be led by, guess who? Jesus! LOL

 

  Sometimes I end up exploring an idea through a series of images. Each one leads to a deeper understanding. The first one in this exploration wasn't "a waste of time" (those are the critic's words, not God's.) It never is because as I was hurriedly looking for images, I became even more cognizant of the conflicting messages being shouted out by articles and ads. I began to grasp a deeper sense of what the critic looks like. Ergo, the drawing for the second piece. 

  He's all about measuring up but if you have too much clutter, for example, you must accessorize your home. Huh? Clean isn't clean unless it's perfect. Keep busy and simplify your life. It's no wonder we end up tied up in knots.

  And that is his endgame. To tie us up. To stop us from ever believing we could measure up. To stop us from stepping outside the box within a box within a box of his making.

  He is a liar. His message is the fine print disavowing the claims made by whatever product or practice he is demanding we must use to be at the pinnacle of excellence. Use with caution. What?

  Did you know that the Material Safety Data sheet for a major brand of hand sanitizer says to avoid direct contact with skin and for safety purposes should be immediately washed off? Huh? Haven't we been told in this Covid world to frequently use the stuff, that it is good?

  The critic has many offspring: self doubt, fear, worthlessness, confusion, insecurity...his name is Legion.

  Yah, but...sometimes the Yahbut helps us see truth...but...these Yahbuts go by a different name. 

  It's "Yahweh." 

  His Spirit with us will encourage, support, and teach us for one purpose, that we may know the unfaltering and faithful presence of God even when we have to try again or again and again and again.

  God will give us wings, not Red Bull. ( I have been itching to use that line for a long time, smile.)

  Thank you, Lord, for the gift of the Holy Spirit, of your Son. AMEN!

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 13

 "Teach me your ways, O Lord, that I may live according to your truth!" Psalm 86:11

  Vulnerability: the act of being vulnerable. 

  The Oxford dictionary defines it as being susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm. It's no wonder vulnerability is seen as a negative trait. But, here's the thing about God's Kingdom, he turns the world's ways on its head.

  

  As I flipped through the Psalms this morning looking for a Scripture verse, I realized the author, King David, painted pictures through his words. I realized David bared his soul before God in these written prayer/poems. I wonder if, when he wrote them, he would have ever dreamed they would have an impact on a woman sitting at her kitchen table in the year 2023. (Smile.) Or would he be mortified at the thought I am able to catch a glimpse of his inner, broken self? Would he be ashamed that I have seen how angry and bitter he can be at times? Would he be embarrassed by having put his heart on paper at all?

  The poignant honesty of the Psalms played a huge role in guiding me into a posture of vulnerability before God. If a King can bare his soul to God, why can't I?

  Oxford doesn't want us to know vulnerability is a gift. Oxford doesn't want us to know being connected to our emotions is crucial for our well being. Most of all, Oxford doesn't want us to tap into those emotions in order to create something beautiful or sad or ugly or joyful. Oxford wants us to be afraid to venture into a posture that only leads to freedom from the likes of Oxford.

  For those of us who have experienced broken trust, being vulnerable doesn't come naturally. For those of us who swallowed our emotions as a matter of survival, unlocking them can be a frightening prospect. 

  We are born vulnerable. The foundation of our existence is one of needing others to meet our needs. Guaranteed, people failed us and forced us to take care of ourselves. Some of us far too soon. 

  And Jesus wept. 

  Here's the thing, though, vulnerability is an expression of hope! No wonder Oxford doesn't want us to go there.

  It's why David did so much writing. Even the despairing Psalms are lifted up to God in the hope that he would find healing and closure. 

  Are you willing to do the same?

  Are you willing to try?

  Just so you know, it will get easier with time and practice. 

  Maybe today you could take a few minutes to draw a picture of a place or an item that holds good memories. It's like dipping toes into the life giving waters of vulnerability.

  Lord, thank you for giving me a new definition for vulnerability: being open to emotional truth and healing. AMEN!

  

  

   

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

   

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 12

   "Instead, let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes. Put on your new nature, created to be like God--truly righteous and holy." Ephesians 4:23-24

  At some point yesterday, the idea of creating a devotional around the art of prayer leapt into my mind. I awoke exploring this idea, utterly overwhelmed at the thought of doing 365 pages. As I opened my bedroom curtains to let the light in, the idea was pared down to maybe doing a month long journey.

  I was curious, was there already something out there like this? Google provided links to many similar ideas, already published. As I read through a few various book blurbs and sample pages, even one entitled, "The Art of Prayer," I thought this will never fly. It's already been done. (Yahbut whispered, "By others far more experienced!) I can't even use my title! (Whine and cheese are the Yahbut's favorite meal.)

  Years ago I attended a two day conference around being Trauma Informed which explored how trauma can impact people. During the course of the lecture, we were paired up. As we stood one in front of the other, we were encouraged to fall back and trust the person behind us to catch us. Yah. Couldn't do it. No way. I couldn't trust a stranger to not let me fall. 

  It opened the door to a whole whack of belittling myself for failing the "test." Thinking about it now, it was an entirely inappropriate exercise for a conference about trauma.

  (Smile.) Here I am, roughly 12 posts into encouraging others to try something new and I find myself balking at trying something new. Jesus is asking me to fall back into His arms. The question isn't whether or not I can, the question is do I want to?

  Maybe it isn't about creating a finished product, be it 365 pages or only two. Maybe it's about the journey in and of itself.

  And there it is...I don't need to write a "how to" book because my "How To" mightn't be yours. My "How To" might end up being a stumbling block or a burden. My "How To" might instill shame and self-doubt or be utterly overwhelming.

  The idea of writing a devotional or even exploring the Art of Prayer is not about performance or achievement...what a shocking thought! Imagine tossing the standards of life out the window! 

  It's about freedom.

  Maybe my role is to be the key holder for the rusty lock of a door long closed. 

  There are some wonderful and beautiful things waiting on the other side of the door. I can't wait for you to see them!

  (Smile.) If I close in prayer, I've written a devotional even if I have broken away from the "Standard Format" by using only one Scripture verse to start off. (The nerve!)

  Dear Lord, I get myself so twisted up in knots at the thought of trying something new. Thank you that I can bring these warring emotions before you and with your help, find out what is true. Thank you that I don't have to be anything but honest...blah, blah, blah...

  ...the prayer isn't flowing. Boy, I rebel at the "have to do's". 

  Who say's a "devotional" has to end in prayer? What would happen if prayer didn't stop at the end of a daily reading? 

  Aren't our lives supposed to be the prayer? 

  Prayer is infinite, with many expressions and can exist by us, in all our ways, acknowledging Him...Lord God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

  So how about this instead...

  "I want to become a living prayer who uses creative expression to put things into words. More than anything, I want to use the keys, the gifts, God has entrusted into my keeping to open the door for others. Help me remain open to Your voice and loving guidance throughout the day. To God be the glory,  AMEN!!"

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 11

   "So Christ has truly set us free." Galatians 5:5

  If we are free, then we can live in that freedom.

  (Smile.) Easily written, not so easily done.

  Why is that?

  Because there are evil forces at work which would have us bound by laws and lies. The enemy of our soul wants to keep us as far away from Jesus as possible. He doesn't want us. He's in it  for the utter satisfaction he finds in driving us away from God's community. He doesn't want us to learn about love or joy. He doesn't want us to know we are not alone in the sorrows and trials that are so much a part of mortal life. 

  Most of all, he doesn't want us to explore and embrace God's gifts; those gifts given to us for the glory of God and God alone.

  The last several posts have been about the obstacles in the way of allowing Art to be a form of prayer. I get it. I get that you doubt or are unsure. I get that you have an inner art critic...critics by the way are NOT artists any more than a food critic is a chef. (I just got an image of what a critic looks like beneath their suave sophistication and urban slickness...it ain't pretty.)

 

 Today is a good a day as any to start seeking, knocking and asking. 

 Today is a good day to find a sacred place, a table, a comfy chair, and pick up a pencil and take the lies, the strongholds, by storm, one picture at a time.

  One image speaks a thousand words of praise and power. (Remember, stick people are humble but mighty message bearers.)

  One image is all it takes for the gates of self doubt to crumble. (Colour your thumb with a marker and transfer your thumbprint to a piece of paper. What a work of art! Utterly unique and unlike no other!)

  One image. (Draw the number one.)

  One. 

  One is a beginning.

  

 

  I ordered my business cards. 250 of them. (Imagine, the audacity!) But I couldn't resist the image on the website...it's perfect!

  

  Beginnings happen every day.

  

   

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 10

   "When the devil had finished tempting Jesus, he left him until the next opportunity came." Luke 1:13

   "And don't let us yield to temptation, but rescue us from the evil one." Matthew 6:13

  As we read the verse in Luke last night at home church (aka Bible study), I was struck by the understanding that Jesus was going to face the devil again. The Garden of Gethsemane was an epic battlefield as Jesus came to accept his fate on the cross. There may be more verses which document the ongoing battle between Jesus and the devil but they aren't coming to mind.

  I have to wonder if all the documented times Jesus' left the disciples to be alone with God was to overcome temptation. There was always a miracle following his absence.

  Lord, where is this going?

  Temptation isn't just about desiring forbidden fruit. Temptation is far sneakier. Temptation is the sire of the Yahbut. Temptation's other offspring are distractions, reasoning, and justification. 

  The devil will use anyone and anything to divert us from our calling. The temptation is to believe what the devil is saying.

  When we overcome temptation, we defeat evil.

  Guaranteed, he will try a different path.

  When we overcome temptation, we defeat him again.

  Anything that would lead us away from spending time with Jesus, the Holy Spirit and God the Father is letting temptation win.

  And it's not always obvious stuff like chocolate. (Smile.)

  The temptation might be to agree with the lies stopping us from moving forward in faith and trust.

  The temptation might be to let life's experiences dictate not only our present but our futures.

  Temptation is what stopped me from ordering business cards for the blog. The lie that clearly stated giving out cards is a sign of pride stopped me in my tracks. I was tempted by not wanting to appear arrogant.

  It's not prideful, by the way. (That particular battle has been won because of gratitude.)

  Forgive me, Father, for allowing temptation to do this.

  A long time ago during a nighttime flight, I looked down at the tiny lights illuminating the roads and cities. I remember thinking, that's what being a Christian is. There's an interconnectivity reaching far beyond our own small light.

  Do you remember the old Christmas lights where if one bulb went out, the whole strand did?

  God has infused each one of us with gifts, a light uniquely ours. When we allow temptation to stop us exercising those gifts...it is to the detriment of the whole body of Christ. Yes, the whole body.

  I took the painting, posted a couple of days ago, to home church last night. (This was a first for me, sharing the art with 3D people except for a very few close friends.) With the leader's permission, I shared how it had been created and what it represented. 

  Temptation is wanting to stay inside our comfort zone. 

  What difference would it have made had I not shared?

  I don't know.

  But it did make a difference! (Smile.) It allowed others to envision the unseen and probably more as the painting was handed around but that's between them and God.

  And I am okay with that.

  My joy, after all, was in the creating. Knowing all is above my pay grade.