And If Not, He is Still Good

I have been known to kick the trash can, slam the door, hurt my toe, and scream 'why me'.  I'm not proud of it. I know good and well these dramatics are unproductive and even silly, especially since this kind of outburst is provoked not by real pain, real trouble, or real distress, but by short term frustration.

Real heartache does not make me shake my fist at the heavens.  Real heartache, wherever and whatever it may be, makes me pray. Then, I am reminded to be thankful for every good thing I take for granted.....filling two cups of coffee at breakfast, comfortable shoes, beautiful music on the radio, challenging work with people I love.  When the tribulations of life come around, I recognize my limitations, taking to heart the Scripture that assures us our entreaties are heard even when they are wordless.


"When we don't know what to pray for..."  My memory is chock full of times when prayers were answered...prayers for healing, for rescue, for happiness, for safety, for good news, but when my father had a stroke and my parents' world was upended, I could not find the words to pray.  We were always winging it, always trying to solve yesterday's problems, trying to wrest contentment and compassion from chaos.  Health and happiness faded as spring bloomed.

But even as we grieved, God's merciful hand was easy to see.  With gratitude we remembered the times we had gathered to celebrate at Redbarn.  The hard choices to uproot them, to buy a house, that seemed so fruitless, upon reflection, turned to blessings as their loving family and our caring community showed patience and compassion and the best of human kindness.  Until the very end of their trip from this world to the next, my mom and dad were together.... as they always had been.  A final gift to them from their loving Father....and a comfort for all of us saying goodbye.

Hard times call for trust. Faith trusts in the story.  And whether or not we understand the story, we are called to believe it.  We will see it clearly someday.

And if not, it is still good.

Restore and Renew...

"Every work of art starts out on the progressive path to destruction from the moment it is created. The artist can only hope to delay this time for as long as possible by the judicious choice of materials and their application with a sound technique. When the object passes from the artist's hands he can but pray it will be well looked after." Francis Kelly – 20th century restorer.

a restorer, courtesy Wall Street Journal

 It's that time of year again...time to celebrate ...but time to reflect.  Inexorable time leads me to another birthday and the inclination to hang blessings and losses in the galleries of memory...and the disinclination to do the math. 

 Inexorable: relentless, unstoppable, unavoidable, inescapable.

Young Woman in Blue Reading a Letter by Johannes Vermeer

I always visit the National Gallery of Art while in Washington, DC.  Strolling through the galleries is one way to restore balance, perspective.  Man has been creating art...objects of beauty, reverence, imagination...before time was measured.  And why?  What impulse informs the need to create beauty in whatever medium...glass or marble, paint, wood, ink, or flowers?  I'm no evolutionary biologist, so my answer is simple and worshipful:  our Creator put beauty in man's makeup because He wanted to us to notice this completely-non-bread-and-butter, non-essential-to-survival trait  and recognize it as a clue to His continuing presence and loving-kindness.

Niagra Falls by Frederic Church

In our fallen world, even perfect beauty decays. Our energy and the spark of creative fire can dim from birthday to birthday.  Walking back in time through the galleries from 20th century realists to pre-Renaissance and ancient art is an exercise not just in finding common humanity between centuries, continents, and cultures, but a reminder of how very fragile the thread is that maintains these ancient communications.

St. Paul by Rembrandt

I'm not as old as anything in the West Gallery (modern art is in the East Wing), but having another birthday is a good reason for restoration.  The first quote is as true of the human condition as of artworks: as perfect as we may have appeared to our excited parents, we were on the downhill course when we drew our first breath.  We can eat well, work hard, be loved and be happy, but even these "sound techniques"will but delay and never defeat the decay of time, hurt, and all the other burdens of our fallen lives.

Restored...

But the Psalmist offers another take on restoration and renewal.  And a birthday is the perfect time to sing that song to myself.  I don't expect to be better than new...I don't hope for a fountain of youth. Cleaning a painting makes it brighter, more vivid, and reveals hidden details invisible behind aged grime or botched rehabs.  Restoring an antique makes it whole again...but not new.  We won't regain our original shine...but an inward renewal is rewarded with a right spirit  and an increased appreciation for our day to day walk in our day by day world.