Letting Go

I started this painting in the 90's. (Eek! It's about time I finished it.) I had everything painted except the ripples in the water and the flowers. I don't know why, but I just set it aside. I pulled it out of storage last summer and have had it sitting in my kitchen - looking at it. The Lord began to talk to me about it and so, I had to finish. I worked on it once in February and today and that's all it took. But, it took a lot of work on me to get here.

The painting was inspired by a story I once heard about a Native American tradition of dealing with the past. I heard the story on a TV show (Northern Exposure, I think), so I wouldn't count on it being historically accurate. The story goes that when a person needed to let go of the past, she would write letters to her ancestors or gather items that had past significance and take them to the river. She would release them into the river, trusting the water to deliver them to the spirits of her ancestors. Since rivers carry things away and never return, this was a way of releasing those hindrances and hurts from the past.

On my 30th birthday, I went camping alone. I had gathered some things. I wrote a few letters. I sent some stuff down the river. I burned a few things in the campfire too. I prayed... a lot. I let go of a lot. Later, I decided to paint the story. I think I stopped painting because I didn't fully understand the depth of letting go. God still needed to deal with me, teach me and bring me to where I am today.

When I finished the painting today, I said, "it is what it is." I realized that I could have fussed with it more and try to make parts of it better. But, it was time to let go and move on. Do you see the figures in the water, reaching for the flowers? They were in my original plan for the painting and that was all I really needed to paint to be finished. I debated about whether to include them, since they seem rather pagan. But, to me they represent acceptance and peace. The past is resolved. It is what it is.

For the past several months, God has been dealing with me about letting go of some things. Mistakes, hurts, disappointments, expectations, plans that never came to pass, people's opinions of me and so on. Two phrases have returned to my thoughts again and again:

Whatever happened, happened.

Don't look back.

The first is a quote from my much-missed TV show Lost. It basically means the same as "it is what it is." Certain things happen in life that can't be changed no matter how hard we try. History (despite what the revisionists think), situations, experiences, words spoken by us or to us - they can't be changed. People's opinions of us cannot be changed by us, only by the person with the opinion. I have spent way too much of my life on would've-could've-should've, what if..., and yeah but.... These are all ways of obsessing about something which we cannot control. I have replayed things in my head over and over. Has any of that effort ever changed the past? No. never. The past is what it is. Whatever happened, happened. A big part of letting go is learning to accept that concept and get to the place where we can honestly say, "OK, I can't change it and I'm not going to waste my time with trying."

I was talking to Rick about all of this awhile back and he said, "don't look back." When he said it, I immediately heard that line from CCR's song Run Through the Jungle - "Don't look back." I have heard that in my head so many times in the past several months! Just as replaying the past is obsessing, looking back is grieving over what is no more or what might have been. Another dead end street. We can spend our lives looking back, but it won't bring back the good things or change the bad. Looking back did not work out well for Lot's wife - she turned into a pillar of salt. That may not happen to us, but looking back will feed the grief and keep it alive. Feeding things just makes them get bigger. Stop feeding it, it dies. Don't look back.

We have to stop grieving and obsessing over what we cannot control. That's really what it's all about. We lack the control to change the past. We never had that kind of control and we never will. However, we can change our present and our future. We keep our eyes focused ahead. Of course we can't control other people - past, present or future. We have to learn to accept that and let go of those things others do that rub us the wrong way. Fear often tries to grip us and keep us looking back. We are afraid of being hurt, betrayed, rejected, ridiculed, invalidated, cheated or denied all over again. But, when we truly enter into the love of God and allow Him to heal all those wounded places, we learn that being wounded does not have to be so tragic. We learn to run to the Healer, cast all the cares on Him, receive His restoration and move forward. It's a process that may take some time; but it's worth the effort. It is God's will for us. Paul said it this way:

...but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 3:8-14

The past is what it is.

Whatever happened, happened.

Don't look back.

Let go.

Press forward.

***
Notes on the painting: "Letting Go" by Carol Ann Welch, oil on canvas, 16"x20", Copyright 2011.

Random Musings of Snow Days

Snowy Day Garden

Snow Day Weather: BRRRR! It is cold today!! I woke up this morning to teen temperatures and negative wind chill factors. Snow still covers the ground from yesterday's snowfall. Schools and many businesses are closed. The world is quiet as most people have gone into hibernation to wait out the weather. A perfect time to write a little personal blog. I've been hitting the Bible study blogs pretty heavily lately, so I thought this would be a nice change. 

Snow Day Adventure: Rick suggested that we go out for breakfast yesterday to check out the roads. About an hour later, I decided I was up for an adventure, so I agreed. I almost changed my mind when the passenger door on the truck would not open. It was frozen shut. The windshield wipers were frozen in place too. After sliding down our street and struggling with a hill, Rick decided to put the truck in four-wheel drive. He announced, "Now we'll get some traction." Then made a left turn and slid sideways down that street. I thought it was all funny until he made a right-on-red turn onto Highway 10. There were cars coming! Granted, they were a block away and doing about 10 miles per hour, but they were coming. And we were sliding again. Sideways, very slowly, down the highway, ahead of the other slowly moving cars. It was like being chased by zombies. We did actually make it to breakfast, and home safely. On the way home, we watched a big duel-wheel truck slide very slowly through a red light that he was trying to stop for. He never did get stopped. Thankfully, no one was moving toward him. The car across the intersection was just spinning, not going anywhere. It was quite a hilarious adventure!

Jessey making hot chocolate

Quinten on his 2nd day of the WoW Snow Day Marathon

Snow Day Gratitude: The boys are delighted to be out of school. Jessey is thankful that he has extra time to study for the test that was scheduled for today. He's also thankful that he does not have to drive his freshly painted car on treachery roads. Quinten is thankful for my decision that homeschoolers should get snow days too. Guess what he's doing? WoW! You're right! Quinten and I ventured outside last night to find out what 10 degree weather actually felt like. Despite my heavy coat, I was shivering in less than two minutes. Quinten insisted that it was not that bad.


Snow Day Accomplishments: I've been taking advantage of the lovely snow-reflected light that is shining into the studio - I've been painting. I have two in the works now. One is a seascape/beach scene. The other is a riverside scene that I began years ago, but never finished. I may title it "Letting Go." We'll see. Are you intrigued? I had to stop painting, though, and let both dry. One of the things I love about oil painting is the technique of layering. But that requires down time between layers. Nothing teaches you patience like waiting for paint to dry. 

Maow in her Snow Day camping spot on my bed.

Nommy on her Snow Day perch

Snow Day Pets: Did I mention that it's cold? The studio was so cold yesterday that we let the cats into our bedroom. They both slept on me last night. I didn't complain. We kept each other warm. Maow has staked out a spot on the bed and is camped there for the duration. Nommy can't be still that long. She played hunting cat from her perch today, while watching the squirrels and the birds in the back yard. Shadow and Faith made a record quick trip outside yesterday morning; but by afternoon they had decided that the snow was fun. They chased around, kicked up the snow and bit it. Twice yesterday, I had to make them come in so they wouldn't freeze.The dogs had one of their favorite treats earlier. After Jessey topped his hot chocolate with whipped cream, he squeezed out a bit for the dogs. It's so much fun to watch them catch falling whipped cream in mid-air. And if they miss, they clean up the mess themselves!

Shadow & Faith getting their Snow Day treat

Snow Day Question: "What are you doing?!" - which was asked of my repeatedly as I snuck up on people to take pictures of them. I'm sure the pets were thinking the same thing.


Snow Day Bliss: Family safe at home, enjoying the day. Getting to spend some time doing what I love.

My sweetheart is a good cook!

Snow Day Blessing: My wonderful husband cooking dinner! Cheesy Chicken Casserole is great comfort food on a cold night! Later, there will be a movie and munchies!

Snow Day Prayer: Lord, thank you for this day of much-needed rest. Also, thank you for the beautiful snowy landscape outside my window. Please keep all my friends and family safe today and blanket them with the warmth of your love. In Jesus' Name - Amen.

Being Still

Be still, and know that I am God... ~ Psalm 46:10

Three weeks ago, I finished my painting and posted it here on my blog. The world has been so quiet since then. Well, maybe not the world, maybe just me. I have slept so peacefully and have truly rested for the first time in... I can't remember when. All is well with my soul. Will it stay that way? (giggle) Probably not. I'm an imperfect person living in a fallen world surrounded by other imperfect people. Storms will come. But, there's a stillness in my soul that I have not sensed in a long time, and this time it is deeper... stiller.

God seems... bigger.

Now, I know that God has not changed, so it must be that I have. Perhaps, I've emptied a bit more of myself out and made more room for Him. I sense a deeper understanding of His Sovereignty... a deeper trusting... a deeper reliance on Him. Whatever it is, I like it. I'm determined to keep it.

Jessey is prepping for final exams at college next week, which brings back memories for me. I remember that relentless grind that intensified those last few weeks before finals. There was so much pressure from every class, every professor, every assignment. I would come to the point in those last agonizing days of finishing assignments that I thought I would just go crazy. Then, in an instant, the last final was over and relief flooded my soul. I would go home to my parents' house and hole up in my room for a few days. I would watch movies and sleep. I would bask in the relief of no pressure. I would be still.

Yesterday, I recognized the similarity of that time to my life today. Those last few weeks I worked on my painting held all the pressure of final exams. Not an external pressure this time, but an internal one. A battle in my soul. The instant I finished the painting, it was over. Since then, I've been still. Sure, I've had bronchitis since just before Thanksgiving, but it hasn't really mattered. It's been like a minor discomfort in the background. A light affliction, just for a moment. It will pass. In fact, I think the bronchitis has helped me to be still. (Now, I am not saying that God gave me bronchitis to get me to rest. That's not scriptural. But, God will use every obstacle in our life for our benefit if we let Him.) About all I have done for three weeks is work at my job and rest. For me, at this time of year, that's nothing short of a miracle.

Christmas is only two weeks away and I am not stressed! It's amazing. Normally, I would be stressing over decorations, gifts, finances, shopping, shipping, parties, memories, baking and every little detail of life in the Christmas season. Not this year. The guys put up Christmas lights without my help. They're still not done, according to last year's standard; but the house is beautiful!! If more lights go up, fine; if not, fine. I'm leaving that to Rick and the boys. There is not one single decoration up in the house. No problem. The tree will go up this weekend. So will my Mom's nativity and village. That's all that matters. I've been shopping online. Almost done. I trust that I will feel like baking in a week or so. I am just not stressed about any of it. It's wonderful. Christmas will come no matter what we do or don't do. The Grinch taught me that ;) All the things that I have named are just traditions. They are meant to enhance the Christmas experience, not rule it or define it. Traditions should be an expression of our joy and gratitude, not a source of stress. Could it be that I am finally learning how to live by that?

To some, all of this may not seem like such a big deal. For me, it marks a profound change. In years past, the month of December was like the end of a college semester. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were the final exams. Pressure and stress ruled the season. Relief came on December 26th. Not so this year. The season hasn't changed. The traditions haven't changed. So, I guess I've changed. I've allowed myself to be still and let God be bigger than the circumstances, than me, than my need for control and perfection. There is such amazing peace in that. I can trust Him with all of my heart. Not to do what I want. But to do what is best. I can be still and trust Him.

My Testimony - Part Two

"Mighty Woman Found" - by Carol Ann Welch, oil on canvas 30"x40", Copyright 2010

Jesus said...

"I have come as a Light into the world, so that whoever believes on Me should not remain in darkness." ~ John 12:46

"I am the Door..." ~ John 10:9

"I am the Way..." ~ John 14:6

This morning, nothing seemed more important than finishing this painting. I just couldn't leave that little girl sitting in that dark room any longer. As soon as the morning sunlight filtered into my studio, I was at the easel. Sunday evening, I had reached that place of "finished" where I had to sit back and look for the final touches. I made those few today. It's been a long, difficult battle; but, as Jesus said, it is finished.

As I mentioned in Part One, I've been carrying this painting for about eight years. The vision for it came with the revelation that the light in "Little Girl Lost" is Jesus. And, just like with that earlier painting, the title came with the vision. This painting is a continuation of the little girl's story... my story. Again, it is a self-portrait.

When I rededicated my life to Jesus in 2001, I was still in the grip of depression. On March 4, I sat in church service, choking back the tears. A very sweet woman named Natalie came over to me during the altar call and invited me to go up with her for prayer. When I stepped up to the Pastor and the woman that was ministering with him, all I could say was, "I'm having a hard time." Then the tears came. They began to pray in the Holy Spirit and the woman suddenly said, "Depression, get off of her in the name of Jesus!" There was such authority in her voice! And she knew! How did she know? She called out the very thing, the very name of that horrible plague that had defined my life for so long. I knew that God was at work. As she prayed over me, the minister kept saying, "You're free." Then she had me say. "I'm free." She told me to write down that day's date as the day I was set free. I wrote it in my Bible.

One week later, a visiting minister held a healing altar call. Rick's back pain was healed that night. After witnessing that miracle, I went up for prayer as well. I knew there had been a change in the past week. The depression had eased, but I still had the insomnia, fatigue and anxiety that always went with it. As the minister prayed for me that night, I felt something physically drain from my body, from my head downwards as though it were running down and puddling at my feet. I was flooded with relief and was weak all over. The closest sensation I have ever had was a shot of Demerol, but that doesn't even come close. Rick practically had to carry me to the car. That night I slept better than I ever had in my life.

From that time forward, I experienced a peace and a joy in my life that I never thought I could have. Depression may have defined twenty-five years of my life, but Jesus has defined the last ten. I know that the Lord touched me physically, spiritually and emotionally. I have not taken a single anti-depressant or anti-anxiety medication since that time. The depression tried to return a few times, but I stood against it and it could not stay. Until last fall, when I stumbled back into the pit. For the past year, it's been an emotional roller coaster. I have refused to just lay down and give in the way I used to, so this time around has been very different. I have stayed very close to the Lord and I've kept my face turned to the Light.

Which brings me back to this painting. I've carried the vision of it - the little girl grown into a woman, the window actually a door and the true Light come to set her free. But I could never bring myself to paint it, until I found myself in that dark room again. I knew that it was time. I had to paint my way out of that room - once and for all.

"Little Girl Lost" is the easiest painting I have ever done. "Mighty Woman Found" is certainly the most difficult. I have labored over it more than any other painting. I have suffered through so much torment in my soul since I began painting it. I've stepped into some traps and made some mistakes. I was so tempted, so many times, to just quit painting. But, I was determined to finish this painting. It has been such a fight! I laid down a lot to see this one through.

Why was this painting so hard? I believe it's because we have an enemy, God's enemy, who is determined to hamper the efforts of Christians to spread the Gospel. What did the devil really care for a depressed housewife to paint a picture of a little girl with "hope"? The Holy Spirit worked through me with little or no interference. But, for a woman of faith to find the way out of darkness and paint a picture that demonstrates that way out - well, that just might be considered a threat. Praise God!! It is my desire and my prayer that "Mighty Woman Found" will find her way into the lives of others who are trapped in the dark and show them the Way out.

When I began, I did not see what was in the doorway. I knew that Jesus was there, but I expected it to be filled with light. It was only as I was painting that I began to see past the door. A path took shape, then a garden grew. I believe these two paintings tell the story of a little girl who grew up in the Light, although she was surrounded by darkness. Finally, she was drawn to the Light and looked fully into it, realizing its source. She called out to the Light and He answered. He opened a door into the darkness and offered her freedom. She took His hand....

For a few weeks now, I have been seeing the woman stand up and walk out of that room - always from the perspective of the painting's viewer. This morning, after I signed the painting, I sat back and closed my eyes. I saw through the eyes of the woman in the painting. I looked into His face and I stood up. I followed Him out the door and it closed behind us. I felt His hand. I felt the stones beneath my feet. I smelled the roses. I felt the sunlight and the breeze. Joy came this morning, and with it, laughter. Holding my Lord's hand, I began to walk the path of my destiny.

Therefore if the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed. ~ John 8:36

My Testimony - Part One

"Little Girl Lost" - by Carol Ann Welch, oil on canvas 30"x40", Copyright 1991

And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.
~ John 1:5 (MKJV)

For he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. ~ Hebrews 13:5 (KJV)

This painting has been hanging over my desk for several years, waiting for me to paint part two. It is a self-portrait and it is the beginning of my testimony. Yes, so sad, I know. But look at the light. As it turns out, this painting is not about the little girl, it's about the light. But I'll get back to that.

I painted this one in 1991. At that time, I wanted desperately to get back to painting, so I audited a painting class at Tarrant County College. I already had a Bachelor's degree in Art, but I thought the studio environment would give me a "jump start". Something amazing happened in that class - I went a direction in painting where I had never gone - I painted the dark places of my life. That had always been taboo before, as I opted instead to paint "pretty pictures" that gave me a sense of escape. By the end of the class, I had painted fear, depression, anger, jealousy and denial. My last painting for the class was this one -
"Little Girl Lost".

The image came to me very clearly and complete. The title came with the vision. I knew it had to be large, so I bought a 30"x40" canvas and dove in. This is the easiest painting I have ever done. As I said, the vision came so clearly. I used an old photograph of myself as a reference for the little girl, with some changes. I was amazed at how quickly it came together and was finished. I knew when I painted it that it was the most powerful work I had ever done. But I had no idea why.

The little girl in the painting is me. I knew from the beginning that it was a self-portrait. Everyone that sees this painting has the same reaction, "She's so sad." Yes, she is. I was an extremely shy child and there was a lot of sadness and loneliness that came with that. As a teenager, I became terribly depressed. It puzzled everyone. I came from a good, loving family. I was spoiled rotten - in a good way. I was never abused. Yet, I didn't want to live. I was in terrible emotional pain. My mom had also suffered from depression, so she did the only thing she knew to do - she took me to the doctor. So, at age 13, I was prescribed anti-depressants and sent to a counselor. That was the beginning of 25 years of therapy and medication (I took over a dozen different kinds during that time). I was eventually diagnosed with chronic depression (due to a hereditary chemical imbalance), anxiety, panic attacks and borderline agoraphobia. I was told there was no cure, just medication and learning some "coping skills". Medication never really helped that much, and I was not very good at coping. So I mostly suffered and trudged through life anyway. It's that torment of depression that the little girl portrays.

She sits in a dark room - totally black (In the photo, the brush strokes tend to reflect light and look gray, but it is really solid black - only Rick could get it to photograph this good). I have always seen the room as the black pit of depression, but it has many names and many places within it. It is the place of "would've-could've-should've" and the prison of fear. There is a dead-end hallway of people pleasing, a pacing track of anxiety, a pounding wall of anger and an even deeper hole of suicidal thoughts. Anyway, enough about that. I know the place all too well and I hate it!

I won't even begin to talk about the darkness. Darkness talks about itself quite enough. And it always talks about what is wrong with everything.

The real subject of this painting is the light. In that dark room, there is a window filled with light. That light pours in and shines upon the little girl, even though she doesn't recognize it. When I painted this, I was most fascinated by the light. I loved the way that it pierced the darkness and caressed the child. At the time, I thought of the light as hope. I was still battling depression then, but I was finally in a place of hope. I now believe that the light was always shining on the little girl. Sometimes she saw it, quite often she warmed herself in it and it always gave her the strength to go on. She just did not know how to get to the light. She always thought it was just out of reach.

There is one other element in the painting that I would point out. Behind the child is a figure of a woman in the darkness. It is painted with the same black as the background and is only delineated by palette knife strokes. I painted it with the intention that it be the destined woman that the little girl would grow to be, hidden in the darkness.

Fast forward to 2002 and the painting was stored behind my bedroom dresser. The year before, I had rededicated my life to the Lord and He had pulled me out of that pit. I had been off anti-depressants for about a year and was doing better than I had ever been. While in prayer one day, the Lord reminded me of this painting and I had an "ah-ha" moment. I ran to get the painting, pulled it out, dusted it off and marveled at what the Lord had shown me. Jesus said "I am the light of the world." The light is Jesus! He had been right there with me always, through all the pain and darkness. I have known Jesus from a very young age (thanks to my sister Debbie) and I can truly say that at the lowest points in my life, it was Him that pulled me up. He gave me the strength to finish high school when I thought I couldn't. He gave me the courage to go to college and the tenacity to finish. He helped me to love when I was terrified to. He sat with me through all the dark nights of my tormented soul, gave me sleep and got me up in the morning. The only two times that I ever actively sought to end my life, He physically stopped me from harming myself. The last time, I actually felt His physical embrace. There is nothing like it on this earth. Pure peace. He is the light of my life, and always has been, even when I didn't realize it. He is faithful, even when we are not.

When the revelation of the light came to me, a vision for another painting did too. I saw the next painting of my testimony. That painting has grown within my spirit like a baby for the past eight years. Labor began last spring when I finally started it. It will be finished very soon. I expect to share it in my next blog post.

At the end of that audited painting class, we had a class critique. I only remember one comment from that critique. The instructor said that the darkness looked impenetrable. She thought it was just too dark and intense and no light could possibly cut through it. I smiled and said, "No, there is light. There, most definitely, is light!"

To be continued... My Testimony - Part Two

ZAP!

Have you ever felt like you were overloaded with negative sludge that has built up from all the cares of the world? Wouldn’t you love to simply zap all that junk away?

Many times I have found that natural scientific principles help me to understand spiritual principles. The best example of this is seed, time and harvest. Jesus used that example of a natural principle to explain the spiritual principle of giving and receiving. My own examples are not always that perfect an explanation, but I find that they help me to grasp and visualize aspects of the Kingdom of God that are otherwise elusive for me.

Yesterday, I pondered the thought that the human spirit is like a rechargeable battery, continually being drained by the world and in need of a Divine recharge. Chasing that line of thought, I discovered a natural principle that gave me a new revelation.

Lightning is a large scale static discharge that operates on much the same principle as touching someone’s hand or something metal and generating a shock. This is the stripped-down ultra-simple explanation of how that works. All atoms have either a positive charge (protons), negative charge (electrons) or no charge (neutrons). The charged atoms are called ions. Static discharge occurs when an object (such as a cloud or a person’s body) becomes overloaded with electrons. When that negatively charged object comes close to a positively charged object (such as the earth or a doorknob), the electrons discharge or jump to the positively charged object. When that happens, the first object loses its negative charge and becomes positively charged. The overload of negative ions is moved to the second object and the first object does not have them anymore.

I see this as a good illustration of 1 Peter 5:7 - Casting all your care upon Him; for He cares for you. Picture this: We go through our daily lives gathering negative cares and worries from the world around us until we are overloaded with them. We become negatively charged. James 4:8 tells us that when we draw near to God, He draws near to us. When we come into close contact with our Father, who is positively charged, we are able to discharge all our negativity onto Him. He can handle it and He won’t be affected by it. Then, we are positively charged. So, another interpretation of 1 Peter 5:7 might be – Discharging all your care upon Him; for He cares for you.

I like the idea of discharge. When I think of casting, I think of a heavy load that I have to lift and heave over to God. The notion of discharge makes me think of myself in a dark cloud that zaps off of me when I come close to God. I understand that the literal meaning of the word “cast” is to “throw off”, implying that I must take action in order to make it happen. Yet, throwing something off seems to involve such effort. Whereas, if my cares are discharged; then the action on my part is simply to draw near to God. I can visualize that. I can get my faith behind it. I can choose to believe that by my act of drawing close to my beloved Lord, I am surrendering all my cares and burdens, all the negative sludge that has accumulated in my soul, over to Him. Zap! It’s gone.

Notes from the Battlefield

"The Dragonslayer" - conte pencil on black matboard

Several years ago, the Lord gave me a picture of a sculptor working on a marble statue. The sculptor was the Lord and the statue was me. He was breaking off large chunks and letting them fall to the ground. Then I saw myself running around the base of the statue picking up those chunks and crying, “no, Lord, I need this!” He replied, “no, you don’t,” and kept right on working. Wow, at the time, I thought that was painful.

Lately, I have seen myself on a battlefield in the midst of a raging battle. It’s back in the days of swords and armor. I have on the Armor of God and I’m fighting the enemy back with my sword; but I’m getting hacked where the armor doesn’t cover. I am bloodied and my flesh is being stripped. I cry out to God and He says, “you don’t need what’s being stripped away.” The Lord showed me that He’s using the enemy to purify me. God’s Armor covers what really counts and the enemy can’t touch those areas. But this other stuff has to go.

It is not pleasant.

At least I am flesh now and no longer stone.

Two weeks ago, during church service, the Lord gave me further revelation on this battlefield. I have been seeing all the strongholds in my life as separate battles. I’ll be fighting a battle on behalf of my family here, but there’s a battle against depression over there that I need to fight, and there’s that one against fear and insecurity over there. And weight loss – HA – I don’t even have time to fight that one! But the Lord revealed to me that there is only one battle on one field and each stronghold is only one enemy. Before, my picture was of an endless battlefield with scores of enemies for each stronghold. Not so. That was a false image that was deceiving me into feeling overwhelmed. With this new vision, the battlefield is smaller and the enemy’s numbers have dwindled. Yes, they are still on all sides of me; but I can take them all on and have victory. I am not overwhelmed. I am more than a conqueror.

So what if my soul feels like it’s ripped, bloody and bleeding. If my King says I don’t need what I’ve lost, then so be it. He allowed Himself to be ripped up for me. If He endured it in His flesh, I can endure it in my soul. My emotions have been ripped up before and I have always come out stronger on the other side. Stronger in faith and stronger in my devotion to my King.

During church service last Sunday, Pastor Linda was proclaiming that our mountains are cast down and are no more. When she said this, I saw myself on that battlefield again and all those enemies that have been surrounding me fell to the ground as dust. I stood on an empty battlefield. I saw my victory!

The battle has still been raging in my thoughts, but I’m not giving it place. I have seen my victory!

A couple of days ago, something very unimportant and insignificant happened that caused the enemy’s vultures to swoop in on my thoughts and start picking me apart. I said no. Eventually, I yielded up the prideful part that let those dark punks in to begin with. But I did not let them drag me into the pit. I told them “NO”. Victory!

My painting has been another battle. I have not made much progress lately. I keep having to wipe it out or paint over. That happens sometimes…usually when I’m trying too hard. I won’t let it be a big deal. I won’t quit. This painting is a key for me. It’s a breakthrough. It’s my testimony. That’s why there’s a battle. When it’s finished, I’m going to post it and write about it. For His glory, not mine. Before I post that painting, I have to post the little girl and tell her story. I don’t want to and I’ve been dreading it. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you will.) I shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s a story about Jesus and his unfailing love. Yep, that’s it. I choose to look at the story that way. Victory!

"The Dragonslayer" is a blast from my past. I think I did it back in the 80's...maybe early 90's. I wanted a battle picture to go with this post, so I dug it out of hiding. I think it looks very Disney. Sleeping Beauty, maybe. I love to use bright colors on black. I need to do more fun stuff like this and stop being so serious all the time.

Anyway, that’s my blog for today, such as it is. Until next time, I’ll be on the battlefield… cutting off heads and turning the enemy to dust.

Art Gallery

Since I began this blog, I have wanted to add a little slideshow art gallery. Well, I finally did. I borrowed my wonderful husband's camera (without asking, then I forgot to turn it off... I'm so glad he loves me and forgives these things) and took some photos. They are not full works, but details of some of my favorite paintings (and one pen & ink drawing). All but one of these are hanging in our home. Some day I'll get my sweetheart to take good digital photos of all my artwork and scan the slides of the work that I no longer have.

It's amazing how I live with these paintings and walk past them daily; but when I place them in a new setting like the slideshow I gain a new appreciation for them. It just goes to show how we can so easily take precious things for granted and need to wake ourselves up every now and again. Not that my paintings are that precious in general, but they are to me and my family. I see them as a testimony of God's love for me. I am very grateful for His gifts.

My new painting is coming along well. I've made quite a bit of progress in the last week or so. It has reached the point where I know that it will work. The underpainting is complete, all the elements are in place and I know where to go from here. I'm sure it still has a few surprises for me. I think that might be fun. It used to terrify me. I am beginning to realize that I don't control the painting and make it what I want it to be. I find the painting. It seems that Michelangelo said something similar about sculpting. He found the sculpture in the rock. OK, I will have to look that up now to learn what he actually said.... Actually I found several quotes on the subject, but here is the one I was probably thinking of: “Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.”

The quote by Fra Angelico (an early Italian Renaissance painter) that is at the top of my blog has had a great impact on me. I have been purposing to pursue calm and peace. And I am purposing to live with Christ. Yes, He is always with me; but I must be continually aware of His presence. I must not take His precious companionship for granted. I must pay attention to Him. Life is so much better when I do.

I hope you enjoy the little art gallery. It is a reflection of my heart and my life.

Painting the Path

This afternoon I worked on my latest oil painting. I started out very stiff and "what do I do here?" Rick was secretly laughing at me (I know he was). Then I declared, "Oh my goodness, just play and have fun with it! The fate of the universe does not rest on how this painting turns out!" After that - bliss! I played with colors and brush strokes and took some risks. I ENJOYED MYSELF! Imagine that! I ended up with a very fun little stone path that I am really tickled with. Here's a picture of it to whet your appetite and make you wonder, "what is she painting?" We'll see if it's still around when the painting is finished....

And another first has been reached. I took the pic with my droid phone and uploaded it directly to Picasa. Ta da! Another step towards geekhood! I needed a positive after my mishap earlier. I received my first comment on my blog. Yay! I received an email about it and told it to "Publish". Alas, the comment never published and is floating somewhere in cyberspace. Poor disembodied little comment. I have tried to recover it, but failed (sigh). I know it's my own fault, because I changed some settings to my blog just after publishing. Another reason I should never multi-task.

Anyway..... I will resurrect the comment here. It was from my precious friend Michelle. She said, "I love your background image! It is really pretty." Yes, she really said that. I am not making it up (Jessey, I know you are thinking that). So, thank you very much Michelle! The image is a detail of a seascape painting that is hanging in my bedroom.

Speaking of Michelle... she is an amazing, gifted, sweet, all-around-wonderful young woman that I met at Empowering Life Church (our home church). She is less than half my age (eek! that makes me feel ancient), yet we have so much in common. She is an inspiration to me and a great blessing to my life.

Wow, I meandered down the stone path and found... Michelle! Cool! And I seem to be on this dot thing tonight...for some...reason. Anyway..... I painted today! I am very content and there is a peace with myself that is luxurious. No wonder why the Lord is always telling me to go paint. He truly knows what is best for me. I'm beginning to understand the whole blogging directive, too. In just two days of blogging, I'm inspired again. The creative process of setting up the blog, looking at my artwork to decide what to include, browsing the blogs of other artists, and writing (a whole creative force in itself) has stirred up the gift that is within me. Thank you, Lord, for getting me back on the path.

Out From Under the Bushel

Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
- Matthew 5:14-16



I am a blessed woman. The Lord has blessed me with many gifts. Some I discovered at an early age and have had the opportunity to develop. Others I have only recently discovered and I’m still very much in the learning stages. For years, I’ve been keeping most of these gifts to myself and my family. But, the Lord has been dealing with me. Don’t you love when He does that? He did not give me gifts to keep to myself, but to share with others so that He may be glorified. So, here I am, being obedient to the Lord and letting my light shine for whomever may be looking. I am just a vessel… an old, dusty window through which His light is shining. All of the glory goes to my beloved Father. I am humbled and grateful that He would give me such wonderful gifts with which to play.
(Image info: detail of oil on canvas "Little Girl Lost")