By Cyndi
Not long ago Robert and I got an opportunity to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art where there were some of the most famous paintings from all of history by Rembrandt, Picasso, Gauguin and so many others. It was amazing to stand and look upon these works of art that were so beautifully and meticulously crafted, such masterpieces. Even more incredible to me was getting closer to these paintings and looking at the intricate tiny details that were put into them.
Up close you can see the individual brushstrokes where the artist would sometimes use a shade of yellow to reflect light, or other darker blends to create shadows. The minuscule details of coat buttons, shoe buckles, and textures of hair were extraordinary. I stood in awe at how a beautiful masterpiece was made up of thousands of small brushstrokes.
As God usually does, He brought the natural realm into the spiritual for me. He reminded me that I am made up of thousands of little brushstrokes too–experiences in my life. Some of these brushstrokes are tragedies—losses, missed opportunities, failures, broken relationships; while others are more positive—celebrations, anniversaries, successes and accomplishments.
The Master Artist paints my life: there’s a splotch on the canvas as I graduated high school, a line drawn when I failed accounting, a burst of color when my son was born. Hues and shades and textures are added—one-inch brushes, thickening my thoughts and carving out my destiny through college, work, marriage, traveling. There are even occasions where it feels like He is blotting and blurring with a cloth or sponge, leaving me confused and seeking for deeper relationships and knowledge; yet He continues to paint, ever conscious of the final portrait.
Many times I can only see the brushstrokes in my life–little things that don’t seem to be connected or have any significant meaning on their own. But Father God is faithful to help me step back and look at the whole painting. The individual strokes and textures disappear into one big magnificent masterpiece–me. Greater than any Van Gogh, Monet, or Matisse, I am God’s work of art. Each specific stroke is used by Him to create who I am. And He is proud of it. He even puts His signature at the bottom: Isa.43:1–“I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.”
What are boundaries? Boundaries define what is me and what is not me. In other words, they are where I end and others begin. The purpose of boundaries is to separate, just like physical boundaries divide where one country ends and another begins. There are borders we cross over where we leave one and enter another. We, as people, also have “borders.”
their distinctiveness; they are merely stacked together to build up one house. 1 Peter 2:5 says we are to be “living stones” made into one spiritual house. There is something bigger as we are connected, yet we are still different from one another, unlike mixing water with lemonade where there is a total blending of the two.
with might by His Spirit in our inner man,” our spirit. Vs.17— that we would be “rooted and grounded in love,” able to fulfill our destinies and walk out our Christian walk successfully, receiving love and giving it away to everyone around us. Our spirits are in training. And just like training for a marathon, this is a process, it doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time and effort–a willingness to suffer the heat, the exhaustion, the work required; but when you do run the race, there is such joy and excitement and confidence that you are ready and prepared.
cleaning out your pores and all. That’s why saunas and steam rooms are said to be conducive to well-being and are usually in spas and gyms–they cleanse the junk out of your body.
denial, trying to ignore the giant love deficit in her life. It is extremely painful for her to look into her heart and really see what is there, yet Jesus’ mercy and kindness is so pure, she ventures in. He slowly exposes her, all the while tenderly showing His love, even in the midst of the ugliness–but truth–of her past. His compassion finally gets to the core of her being as she uncaringly leaves her water jar at the well and runs back into town.
“I’ve always felt my dad did not have time for me. He was aloof, never there emotionally. I have even had anger toward God for putting me in the family He did.”
Our acceptance is not based on our performance, but on His love. 1 John 4:19 says, “He first loved us.” We are His children and He loves us simply because of who we are, not for what we do. But this doesn’t mean we should stop trying, but only try from the safety of knowing you are already loved and accepted just the way you are.
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