Living in the Memphis, Tn area I enjoy going to the Dixon Art Museum. During the summer months they have “Food Truck Fridays” and nothing is better! My favorite section in the museum is the area where they display the Impressionist paintings. By definition Impressionist art is a style in which the artist captures the image of an object as someone would see it if they just caught a glimpse of it. They paint the pictures with a lot of color and most of their pictures are outdoor scenes. Their pictures are very bright and vibrant. The artists like to capture their images without detail but with bold colors. They use short, fat strokes. What does this really mean? For me, I love the fact that when I am close to the painting it is fuzzy and unclear, but the further back I move the clearer the painting gets and you can almost see the waves in the water move. It is magical to me. I do not know how they accomplish their art.
I was thinking the other day about life. Some times we are in seasons when everything seems blurry. I can see the basic shape and some color, but the true beauty of the picture is not there. Life happens to us, people disappoint us, and we hear the word cancer. Another stroke of the brush on our canvas. I sat today with a lady whose sister is on hospice; another stroke of the brush. We look for clarity, but we cannot find it. All we can see are the blobs of paint. Nothing makes sense. There are usually some bright colors mixed in during these times, but we have a hard time focusing on them. A splash of color comes by an unexpected lunch with a friend, warmth of family, and people praying for us that we do not even know.
We all have seasons like this. I find that when this happens for me I have to go away and spend some extended time in prayer. I have a special place I go to where I can spend the whole day in prayer. I always come away with a better perspective. I can see better, but not perfect. I wish that I could tell you this is where I always start when these seasons come, but I do try to end up there.
I have to trust and rely on the Artist. God is painting my life with His brush strokes and only He is able to see the picture from a distance. He knows how each stroke is going to produce a painting that I could not imagine. Trusting the Artist is not always easy. Like everyone else, I want to see everything perfectly. I want to see the reflections and the waves dancing. However, on this side of heaven we never get to see the final art. We see glimpses, but there will come a day when we get to step back and see the final product. We will look with amazement and say “Wow, I had no idea.” The short fat ugly strokes we see close up will make up a beautiful picture.
I do not know what is going on in your life, but trust the Artist.