I drew two pictures
during my illness, which I cherish.
Not because I feel they are stunning works of art.
Nor am I enamored by the subject.
Instead both are a monument.
While physical problems forced me to the quiet, solitude of my bed, the Lord spent the time teaching me.
He helped me learn His voice.
Pain washed away any desire for personal gain and left a pressing understanding of my dependence on Him for each breath.
My perspective turned outward.
How were others living?
In what ways had I missed those around me who were hurting?
One specific day I felt a nudge from the Lord to try to draw a sailboat.
So I found a photograph and began.
I ended up with two drawings.
Then placed them where I could see them from my bed.
And the Lord began to speak to me about them.
“What moves a sailboat? ”
“I am the wind. I desire to move you as much or as little as I plan for you, but you keep trying to take down the sail, or row when I am not moving you.”
“Do you see the water?”
“That is the world and it can throw all manner of garbage onto your deck and into your heart. You can become bogged down from the weight of the filth.”
What do I do?
“Throw it overboard. Allow Me to fill your sails. Allow Me to direct you. Allow Me to call you to rest, when there is no wind. Let go of the oars. Throw them out. Simply be the vessel I am calling you to be. But know I still have work for you to do. Work you were created to complete.”
Although I have yet to frame either of these pictures, they are very precious to me.
Not because they are terrific works of art.
Nor because I feel like showing off.
But they stand as a reminder to allow the Lord to guide me.
The Lord to use me.
The Lord to clean me,
and to continue to throw out the junk.
“I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”