The Art of Prayer, Part 6

   "Then God said, "Let the waters swarm with fish and other life. Let the skies be filled with birds of every kind." so God created great sea creatures and every living thing that scurries and swarms in the water, and every sort of bird--each producing offspring of the same kind. And God saw that it was good. Then God blessed them, saying, "Be fruitful and multiply. Let the fish fill the seas, and let the birds multiply on the earth." And evening passed and morning came, marking the fifth day." Genesis 1:14-19

  Bunny rabbits have an evil cousin: the Yahbut. It's a fang-toothed, red-eyed, mangy, scar covered hare of a creature that stands in the way of success. It reeks of fear and doubt and indecision. Its droppings are shame and guilt. Its sole purpose is to stop us from venturing into uncharted territory. 

  God didn't create Yahbuts.

  They were born the moment Adam and Eve ate the apple. 

  I think what makes a hero is someone who defeats their Yahbut. We see this time and again through stories in the Bible...Moses, Saul (Paul), and nearly every one of the Disciples. I am sure there are others. The one thing they have in common is they couldn't understand why God or Jesus chose them because they believed they were inadequate to the task. (The Yahbut whispered in their ear.)

  "Trust Me," God says.  

   

  When God drove Adam and Eve from the garden, He made the first animal sacrifice. I often wonder how much it grieved God to kill His beautiful creation. He did it because He knew Adam and Eve were ashamed of their nakedness. He loved them enough to cover them so they were no longer ashamed. 

   God will meet you where you are at. 

  

  Even if you are intimidated by a blank piece of paper.

  What do I do with it? What should I draw or write? What if it isn't good enough? What if I get it wrong...Yahbut questions I've asked frequently until I realized no one ever had to see what I created. 

  

  It was for God's eyes only. 

  Sometimes the art is meant to be destroyed as part of the prayer process but not ever, ever because it wasn't good enough. Sometimes there's a need to start again. Sometimes it takes a half dozen tries before finding the right image. It's okay to change what was drawn or painted. God always allows the space to tweak our creations  (He gave us erasers for a reason.) Sometimes it's about simply practicing or exploring the possibilities every art tool provides. Sometimes the art is simply entering into a posture of play and has no higher calling than to be fun. (The Yahbuts might object to this. Just sayin'.)

  

  I haven't talked about the tools needed to embark on this journey of visual prayer. It needn't be expensive. Pick up a sketchbook or notebook that will be dedicated to exploring the Art of Prayer. It is good to have a place to look back on your creations and see the progress...there will be progress! Make sure you like the feel of the paper. I will recommend a spiral bound book because they lay flat on the table.

  I could list all the various types of drawing tools but realized this is a good place to begin dialoging with the Lord. The local dollar store has racks of art materials. Pause a moment, ask the Lord, then see what tweaks your interest over and above traditional back to school supplies. You'll need those for sure.

  Saving magazines doesn't hurt either if collage is something that interests you.

  Yahbut? You don't belong here any more.

   

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 5

   "Then God said, "Let lights appear in the sky to separate the day from the night. Let them be signs to mark the seasons, days and years. Let these lights in the sky shine down on the earth. And that is what happened. God made two great lights--the larger one to govern the day, and the smaller one to govern the night. He also made the stars. God set these lights in the sky to light the earth, to govern the day and night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. And evening passed and morning came, marking the fourth day." Genesis 1:14-19

  There's an order to creation. Just like walking. First an infant learns to roll over, then crawl. Tentative first steps are made while hanging onto solid ground like the edge of a table. With a massive display of courage, the child steps out into the void, unencumbered by hand holds. Before long, the parents are chasing her as she runs, laughing, to escape bath time.

  God took the void and began the building of creation, filling the emptiness of nothing.

  Nothing begs to become something. Nothing is the bated breath held in anticipation of wonderful things like the child's first step that forever changed it. The void became an identifiable something...it became the distance between two things, measured by the steps of a child.

  Being still is entering the void, the place that both exists and doesn't exist at the same time. 

  Being still is becoming the birthplace of creation, a void waiting to be filled.

  Being still is where we allow our true selves, in all our brokenness, to come before God.

  Being still is allowing the void that holds all our memories and experiences to come to the surface. It could open doors you had long slammed shut.

  Don't be surprised if the first thing that wells up is emotion

  Don't be surprised if you can't identify what you are feeling. Many of us never had the opportunity to explore our emotions. We were taught to shut them down.

  It's okay to not understand. Understanding will come with time.

  It's okay to be nervous and uncomfortable in this place of stillness. 

  It's okay to want to leave. Stay here as long as you want. There's no time limit or expectations. There's no parameters or goal setting required.

  The void, the place of quiet anticipation, will wait for your return.

  Maybe, the next time or even the time after that, ask God to lead you to an image in a magazine which illustrates a piece of what you are feeling. Flip through the pages like you are doodling on the phone. Don't overthink things. It might be a picture or more than one. It could be a phrase or even a single word or something else altogether. Maybe it's the white edge surrounding an article. Cut or tear it out and glue it down in the inexpensive sketch pad you purchased for this purpose.

  It's your very first prayer using art and like an infant's first smile, it is something to celebrate!

  

  

  

  

  

The Art Of Prayer, Part 4

   "Then God said, "Let the waters beneath the sky flow together into one place, so dry ground may appear." And that is what happened. God called the dry ground "land" and the waters "seas." And God saw that it was good.  Then God said, "Let the land sprout with vegetation--every sort of seed bearing plant, and trees that grow seed bearing fruit. These seeds will then produce the kinds of plants and trees from which they came." And that is what happened. The land produced vegetation--all sorts of seed bearing plants, and trees with seed bearing fruit. Their seeds produced plants and trees of the same kind and God saw that it was good. And evening and morning came, marking the third day. Genesis 1:9-13

  I wasn't sure what was next but couldn't remember if I had stated the most important factor in the Art of Prayer.

  You don't have to be an artist.

  What defines artistic ability anyways?

  I have often wondered the same thing when I see works of "art" that leave me wondering why and how they can be worth so much! Art galleries are full of examples such as large canvases covered in blocks of colour, there's scribbles a two year old could create, or sculptures that looked like they accidentally melted. Yet somehow these works of art are worth hundreds of thousands of dollars!

  I guess the value lies in perception.

  So you don't have to be an artist because being an "artist" is indefinable.

  It's not about the value of the art anyways. It's that the art has value.

  It's also not about the purpose for the art either. It's that the art has purpose.

  Creation is a verb, a moving thing. It has life and fluidity and motion. Praying though art is surrendering to the process by letting go of expectations or preconceived ideas. It's an action, not a thing.

  Praying through art and opening yourself up to hear what God says is exactly like doodling while on the phone with a friend. Before you know it, the pen has run dry and the page is covered with art!(Thank you Lord, for this metaphor because I was struggling to explain what happens here at the table!)

  I regularly utilize collage. Cutting or tearing out pictures and words from magazines lends a physicality to the process. Action becomes ParticipACTION. (Smile, that's a Canadian made up word promoting exercise since the 1970's but it fits perfectly with the idea.)

  I wonder if it would help if I imagined dialing Jesus on the phone and sat there, "phone" in hand, to hear what He has to say?

  Find your "phone," your point or place of connection. Mine is the kitchen table. Could yours be music? Reading Scripture? Is it going for a walk? Would prayer help? 

  "Lord, I am grateful You are here with me. I am grateful for the opportunity to begin learning a new thing. I give thanks that You will calm my mind and enable me to be present in this moment. Set me free of anything that stands in the way of my inner creator. Forgive me for shutting my creator voice down and locking it away. Thank You that I have You to do all this in me and for me because it is for Your glory, not mine! Amen."  

  Nothing starts without first beginning. 

  Take a deep breath and jump!

  If you were to illustrate today's verse with one word or object, what would it be? Are you willing to put it down on paper?

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

 

The Art of Prayer, Part 3

   "Then God said, "Let there be a space between the waters, to separate the waters of the heavens from the waters of the earth." And this is what happened. God made this space to separate the waters of the earth from the waters of the heavens. God called the space, "sky." And evening passed and morning came, marking the second day." Genesis 1:6-8

  God created space. He created a zone of nothing.

  There can be no something without nothing.

  Is it really nothing though?

  This space is a place waiting for God to finish His creative handiwork. The space between the waters will be where birds fly and clouds drift past. Space will hold the rain and the snow. But not yet.

  Until a few more days pass, the space is a place of anticipation, waiting to see what happens next. Space, literally, is holding its breath; a breath that will sustain God's creations who need air to live.

  Space is something so important that it needed to be created on the second day! 

  I have written about how art has been sorely maligned by society but then I awoke this morning with the understanding that being still is also a place of punishment.

  How often, as children, were the scolding words harshly directed in our direction, "Sit Still!!" 

  Perversely, sitting still was also punishable. "Stop wasting time, get up and DO something!"

  Sound familiar?

  Is there a need to give ourselves permission to give both space and time to/for God? 

  Is there a need to forgive those who taught us that both doing nothing and doing something was bad?

  Time is the enemy of space.

  Time was created by humans the moment we started living our lives according to the sun's movement across the sky. The sun became our god. 

  The sun was replaced by machines that tracked the seconds, minutes and hours of every day. The clock became our god. 

  So here we are, the clock ticking in the background, wondering where to find the time to create our own space to come before God.

  I suppose I need to ask the tough question, "Do you want to?"

  Can you be a space like the sky waiting to be filled with life?

  

  Lord, help me let go of the things, the lies, the half-truths that make me run from You. Help me find the patience to know opening my heart will take practice. Most of all, help me be aware that You are always with me, even when I am busy. In Jesus name I pray, Amen!

  

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 2

   "Then God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. Then he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light "day" and the darkness "night." And evening passed and morning came, marking the first day." Genesis 1:3-5

  Creation takes time. 

  Need I say more?

  I confess to finding it very difficult to put into words something that has evolved into an automatic pathway into my subconscious. It's hard to share how it feels to have the Holy Spirit inspire my inner creator. It's hard to explain how a Power beyond my own takes over the artistic process. It is utterly non-verbal.

  Surrender...Hmmm, that's a good word. Not in the sense of being vanquished nor is it giving up. Surrender is the act of letting go of control.

  Surrender is like a drawbridge. It's very human of me to sometimes block traffic by raising the bridge. 

  Creation doesn't only take time, it takes space.

  I have frequently shared how my kitchen table has become a sacred space. Because I am a visual person, pushing back one of the chairs is a tangible act of inviting Jesus to sit with me here. It serves as a reminder to give in to the process be it an artistic one or while writing.

  The Art of Prayer begins by preparing my heart for whatever may come.

  So, how do I do this?

  Sometimes it's using music. Sometimes it's playing a game on my phone. Sometimes it's something I have heard during Sunday's service that I want to pursue more. 

  Sometime it is an act of utter obedience to the call God places in my heart to come to the table.

  Sometimes I end up at the table because the emotions I am feeling are just too big and confusing.

  I guess the biggest element is simply having the desire to be here to hear God. 

  In the beginning of learning how to do this, I relied on many external practices to help me become still enough, to enable the bridge to be lowered. 

  In these precious moments, nothing else matters. 

  But realizing nothing else matters has taken practice, too. I have often felt guilty for sitting here, not accomplishing the day's to-do list. It took a serious examination of where and how the to-do list became more important than taking time in my sacred space. Culture, gender, history, the age of It's-gotta-be-NOW all played a role.

  The biggest breakthrough was coming to the understanding that I belong here, sitting with Jesus at my side.

  There's room here to play.

  There's room here for innocence.

  There's room here for my sinful self.

  There's room here for pride.

  And grace.

  And patience.

  But most of all, there's room here for brokenness.

  

  

  

  

The Art of Prayer, Part 1

 

  “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” Genesis 1:1-2

 

  Our church is delving into the concept and practice of Solemn or Sacred Assembly. In a nutshell, it’s about taking the time as a community or individual to be still and listen for God’s voice. Wednesday, we are gathering as a body to take part in our own assembly before God. The Meeting House Oakville’s explanation is very, very good so I won’t try and duplicate four Sunday’s worth of teaching in this space. Feel free to go on their website and check out Restored.

  Yes, we have remained with the Meeting House in spite of what happened with Bruxy. Personally, I like the direction they are headed in, a direction grounded in humility, repentance and grace.

  I didn’t know this idea of coming before God had a name and as I watched the teaching, I realized it’s what I do with art. I felt a nudge that led me to approached one of our church leaders. I have offered to do a group about The Art of Prayer. She was very excited because there had been some discussion about maintaining Sacred Assembly as an ongoing practice in our church.

  In trying to explain to a friend what happens when I sit down before a blank piece of paper, art supplies at hand, I realized that the Lord had already made Sacred Assembly part of my faith life. It started the moment I became a Christian.

  Baby talk. Yup. God gave me images about faith that were decidedly corny…a candle in the darkness, a star in the sky, an open door of invitation. I got the point. But the point wasn’t about the image in and of itself, it was about learning to sit quietly and wait.

  It was about nurturing the inner creator with the tender guidance of the greatest Creator of all.

  That same creator spirit is in every one of us. The task before me is how to help others unlock it. I get a strong sense that the Art of Prayer group is going to last far longer than a single gathering.

 

  A little boy knelt before his bed, hands folded, eyes closed. “A, B, C, D…”

  His mother asked what he was doing.

  “Praying,” he replied, “but I don’t know the words. I am giving God the letters because He knows what I want to say.”

 

  In praying through art, I give my hands, the paper, the materials to God because He knows what I want to say even if I have no conscious idea. 

  Ironically, it’s not about the art at all. The group won’t be about teaching others how to draw or paint. It’s about liberation and letting go of control.

  The other huge stumbling block is art in and of itself. I think back through church history when artists were arrested or killed for creating anything that did not focus on God or stories from the Bible. The church had a firm chokehold on anything that might deviate from their agenda. When I realize how much of a personal connection I have with Jesus because of the art, it makes sense those in power would see this as a threat way back when. If I had a personal connection, I wouldn’t need to pay a priest to intercede for me.

  The church eventually loosened their grip but the foundation was laid. Society picked up the hammer for them. Studies have shown that artistic expression is one of the first things children lose in school. By the age of 7, the marking system, scales of ability based on age, and criticism have crushed the creator spirit.

  It’s a good thing they can never, ever crush the Creator’s Spirit!

  The Art of Prayer is not just for those of us who are experienced artists. Stick figures speak a universal language, don’t they?

Unfinished Business

  "For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago." Eph 2:10

  "Fathers (parents), do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes form the Lord." Eph. 6:6

  Cricket needs to say a few things because I just realized the doctor's visit regarding my hands was the moment the door opened. It wasn't the doorway of opportunity. It wasn't the doorway the Lord opened up 37 or so years later that saw me enter into Him. It was a door that never should have been opened. It was the doorway to lies disguised as truth.

  Cricket's truth. A child like any other child who only knows what they are taught.

  My oldest son suffered terrible growing pains. The third night I was up with him, rubbing his legs, I decided to try something besides children's Tylenol. I got an adult multi-vitamin and told him it was a pain killer for grownups and that I shouldn't give it to him but he needed to sleep. I told him as he swallowed it, it would take about ten minutes to kick in. Ten minutes later, he drifted off to sleep. His trust, his complete belief in what I said, turned a vitamin into something powerful and eased his pain.

  A child's belief in what they are told can cause great pain. It's an inarticulate pain, beyond the language of children but nevertheless settles into the soul; a shadow that won't go away, the monster in the closet of our heart.

  I have kept the door closed long enough. I am sorry, Cricket, for having put this off for so long.

  I have to face the anger I feel towards the parent who took me to the doctors because that moment was the beginning of the erosion of any sort of self-worth I may have once possessed. It was the moment I knew I was put together all wrong and that even a doctor couldn't fix me. (I am thankful he didn't all the same because that might have started an addiction to cosmetic surgery to fix all the ugly because it didn't end with my hands.)

  Liposuction to get rid of the fat.

  Fusing my spine so it wasn't so swayed.

  Removal of my teeth so I could wear dentures for a perfect smile. Braces weren't an option.

  Having my legs lengthened so I would be taller.

  Dying my hair to keep it childhood blond.

  Breast reduction. 

  Removal of bones from my feet so they would fit lady-like shoes.

  Is there some sort of treatment for dark circles under the eyes or to whiten winter pasty, olive coloured skin? Those needed fixing, too. (Despite that fact that summer brings a honey-brown, golden glow to my skin.)

  Why is this so important? Why was there such a focus on appearances? You, dear readers, have seen the picture of Cricket. Why was she never, ever told what a beautiful little girl she was?

  Was it because my parents never heard these words either? Sins of the father and all that...

  Every once in a while, I look in the mirror and see what God sees. Is it a sin to have trouble believing Him?

  Okay, Cricket just whispered, "It's no wonder my (birth) mother gave me away."

  Oh, but Cricket, there is so much more to you than mere beauty. God was so incredibly generous when He handed out brains and creativity. When He handed out sensitivity, empathy, grace and patience there was no holding any of them back. His gifts of determination, resiliency and curiosity are so great, they overflow. 

  It's easy to tell Cricket these things. Affirmations I pour into other's lives come easily. I will need to unravel what she said about being given away but not today.

  Years ago, my therapist told me I will probably never have to worry about getting a swelled head. My sense of worth was so insignificant that any sort of personal celebration would feel like I was being conceited.

  Embracing truth is not conceited nor arrogant nor prideful. Only the enemy of our soul would have us believe it was.

  It's why God sent Jesus to die for our sins, so that we can walk in truth and light. My battle isn't with my parents, or ever the doctor from so long ago, it's with the one who uses others to destroy everything God created us to be. That particular beast doesn't like boundaries or hearing the words, "No more."

  I now understand that God is just fine with having those as part of my vocabulary.