"SCRAPS"

Someone made the comment to me saying I was "happy to live off of scraps," this statement was made with obvious disdain, and the words cut into my soul and wounded me; not just once, but they kept keep coming back and reverberating over and over in my heart.  Each time I felt the wound afresh.  The damage was ongoing and as I began to look around at the things in my life, everything seemed to confirm those horrible hurtful words.  I could feel myself slipping into the quicksand, with no one to help me out.

As I sat there with my Beloved this morning, He gave me His perspective and it went like this.........first of all He showed me that the person who  spoke these words felt that way about himself; that  he was a person who was happy to "live off of scraps" and that he was ashamed of that.  He somehow got the message that it was a bad thing to be that way.

Next He showed me the value of  "scraps".  He reminded me of a beautiful quilt top I"d made out of scraps.  And also that after He made the world and everything in it, He made man from the dust of the earth. (scraps?)  He told me that it wasn't the material man was made of that mattered, but it was the life of God breathed into man that mattered.  It doesn't matter about the scraps, it's the life and love that goes int the use of those scraps.

The final perspective He gave me was that everywhere Jesus went, there were some who tried desperately to make Him feel bad about who He was. Some tried to make Him feel bad about doing miracles!  And even about being the Son of God.

So there is one more thing He gave me while we spent time together; He gave me freedom from the hurt of those words as well as compassion for the person who spoke them.  I can honestly pray that he will accept, with joy, how God made him and be free form any and all shame that people have attached to that part of him.
An old song just came back to my mind and one of the lines is,"no one ever really cared for me like Jesus"  So true.  I would not be able to go through this life without Him. I am so very thankful for His love and constant, ongoing presence. that always brings light into the dark areas.
I never know what wonderful gifts He has for me every time I sit with Him, but they are ALWAYS loving, merciful, and satisfying.

THE PAINTING;   I made a card and couldn't leave it alone.  When it got to the point to where I was sure I ruined it, I asked Papa what I could do with it.  He said to take some of the scraps of my paste paint paper and glue pieces on it.  I did, and it turned out to be the perfect card for my niece's birthday card.  Once again, scraps have value.
so, if you feel like your life is on the scrap pile, don't despair.  In the hands of the Master, you, and all you have gone through will be made beautiful.

                                                        The Prince Meets the Princess

                                                                     The Clay

I recently fired some clay pieces in the primitive pit, I dug in my backyard.  Many of the pieces, my grandchildren had made, so I was really not wanting any of those to break in the firing.  As I was standing there feeding the fire and trying to build up the temperature slowly, I had a lot of time to think about things....like pottery and God.  I remembered reading in one of my pottery books that although we all hope all of our pieces will make it through the fire without blowing up, the book said that even the broken pieces have a use.  Adding them to the next firing will help protect the new pieces getting fired. Nothing is wasted in pottery.
I thought about that in relation to our Father and how it is always amazing to me how He uses art to teach me.  He is The Potter and He knows how to heat the fire up slowly, and how much heat we can take at any given time. Sometimes there are elements in the clay that will cause it to break during firing, but this is part of the process of purification. Those parts didn't belong there and would only weaken the vessel.   We can truly rest in the knowledge that nothing is wasted.  All of the pieces that were broken He will use to protect others going through the fire.  If we can look at it that way, we will make ourselves available to Him for that purpose and not sit and mourn the brokenness.  We can rest and rejoice being in The Master's Hand. I know this.

As I excitedly and, not without a little trepidation, began to take the pieces out of the ashes, I found that three of mine had broke, but all of the grand children's were intact!!  But you know what?  I picked up the broken pieces and was very sad for them.  I had no desire to toss them aside, discarding them as if they were trash.  I picked them up with even more gentleness than  the ones that were unbroken.  I truly mourned that I wouldn't get to see them glazed and  functioning as I had planned they would. But I remembered they still have a purpose.  As the potter, I had a plan and my plan didn't work out the way I thought it would.  As The Potter, He has a plan and we can know that His plan and purpose for our lives will prevail.  Nothing is wasted.

The next painting,The Prince Meets the Princess, has a couple of stories behind it.  First of all, let me say that I was getting on myself  because my paintings were not "spiritual" enough.  I am a christian and so I see all these paintings of God images and heavenly things and spiritual icons etc. ,etc. ...and here I am unable to force subject matter that I think i should be doing.  As I thought about this the other day, God reminded me of this painting.  Here's the story behind it....

The little girl in the painting is my ten year old granddaughter, Katia.  We were invited by friends to, what I told her was a "very fancy" dinner. Katia had this lovely dress that we had found at a thrift store.  It looked like a prom dress that someone who was a size 0 probably wore once.  Katia fit into it perfectly and with her tiara she really did look like a genuine princess.

The big day arrived and Katia and her her friend, Jenna, were busy playing most of the afternoon.  Katia told Jenna what she was going to do that evening and showed her the dress she would be wearing.  As the day wore on though, Katia had second thoughts about the dress and decided not to wear it.  Jenna wouldn't hear of it and convinced Katia that it was boring to just see the dress hanging in the closet and that she should definitely wear it.  that was what Katia needed to hear and she wore the dress.  And the tiara.  She did, in fact, look like a princess, and carried herself regally.  It was all unassuming and I'm sure she acted the way she did because she truly felt like a princess.

Well, there were only a few younger children there and no one, but Katia, looked like royalty.    Then a strange thing happened.  A little boy came up to her and began tugging on her dress.  He wanted Katia to pick him up and although he never said anything he kissed her on the cheek and sought her full attention.  I noticed it and began taking pictures.  This went on until the dinner was served and toward the end of dinner, a little girl about four years old, came over to our table and shyly said "Hi' to Katia.  Katia said "Hi" and asked her what her favorite color was.  They chatted for a few minutes and the mother of the little girl came and they went back to their table.  I was watching the little girl's face as she spoke with Katia and especially her eyes, when it suddenly struck me that it seemed as though they thought she was a real princess.

Afterward, I went over in my mind the sequence of events; Katia getting the dress, the tiara she wanted so badly for Christmas, Jenna being here the day of the dinner to encourage her to wear the dress, and finally the the way they were all so blessed that night.  Katia felt she really gave something of value to the little children I think she did too, she made them feel special.  Just like our Heavenly Father wants us all to feel.

As I worked on the painting I saw the love and connection there between the little boy and Katia.  I saw God in this.  So when I began to get down on myself with the familiar voice of condemnation, I heard another voice...the voice of Truth that told me that if I can see God in the everyday events of life, and I paint them am I not painting "spiritual" paintings? I think I am and I think I am ok with that.
So maybe, once again there is a reminder of God's omniscience and we can find Him everywhere, if we want to look.

One day while visiting Tera, I paused outside a door close to the dining room.  The sun was brilliant on the snow, in the courtyard, and I could see the window of Tera's room.  Tera left to go home a few minutes past midnight.  The photo was a reference for this painting as I pictured Tera leaving and being escorted to her new home.

The story behind the painting, "Home Before Daybreak" is about Bonnie's cousin Tera, who lived her life in a body bound by cerebral palsy.  After spending many years confined to a chair or a bed in the Gallatin Rest Home and unable to speak, she was placed in Hospice Care until one day after months of Hospice she decided to go 'home' to heaven.  The poem, "Tera" is about her last day on earth. 

TERA

We walked into your room that day

And sat beside your bed to pray--

Three sisters there in joyous song,

In that place where we belonged

Without a care, we talked to you

Of marvelous things that you would do

And things you'd see on heaven's shore

With loved ones there forever more.

We watched as your expressions changed--

As the atmosphere was rearranged

As you decided whether or not--

You wanted to go and leave this spot.

Two sisters left quite unaware

That in the night you would choose to go there.

Oh Tera dear, you beautiful doll--

Jesus spoke and you answered His Call.