A Bigger Perspective

I’ve always enjoyed art— wandering through galleries and marveling at the way people use color and light to express themselves. I enjoy learning about an artist’s chosen medium, their creative process, and their technique. I’m not an artist myself, though I have taken a few classes because I desire to learn how to express myself creatively.

During a recent family vacation, I took a painting class. We sat in a room, surrounded by glass on all four sides. The Rocky Mountains stretched out before us, its jagged peaks covered with fresh snow, the hills below bright green from recent rainfall. The sky was wide and dappled with clouds, the pond behind the building teeming with birds. It was an ideal spot in which to spend the afternoon with a blank canvas.

The instructor placed his own painting on an easel and invited us to paint something similar. It was a mountain scene and looked like many of the places our family had recently hiked, filled with desert shrubs and rocky cliffs. He walked us through it, teaching us how to paint shapes and mix colors. Not everyone in the class was an artist, so I was happy to learn that I wasn’t the only one who did not know what they were doing!

As I painted, I grew increasingly disappointed. All I could see were lines and shapes. My shrubs looked like large eggs sprouting ears. My mountain looked like a misshapen blob—far from anything majestic. I’d add lines as he instructed, but they didn’t look anything like cliffs or crevasses.

The instructor walked around the room, giving us individual help and guidance. Several times he said, “Every once in a while get out of your chair and step back from the painting and you’ll see it from a different perspective. Up close, it won’t look like anything. But a few feet away it will all make sense.”

I never got up to see it from afar but kept mixing colors and painting away, all the while feeling discouraged that the image I had in my mind was not transferring to the canvas. It wasn’t until I brought it back to our cabin and propped it up on the window sill and looked at it from afar that I saw it as he said. All the lines and shapes that looked so strange up close looked so different a few steps away. My bushes actually did look like bushes! The red rock mountain looked like it had dimension and depth. There were cliffs and crevasses after all. It looked more like a place I had hiked and explored than the smearing of colors it looked like up close.

My painting experience reminded me of how I often view my life—of how I see the picture God is painting. I often only see the trial and hardship I am in at the moment. The brush strokes seem wild and unhinged. The colors look like they’ve been splattered on the canvas with no thought or intention. The shapes don’t resemble anything that makes sense. I feel discouraged and can’t imagine that what I am experiencing has any purpose. How can something so messy and confusing transform into something beautiful? And sometimes, when the trial is especially intense and hard, all I can see are dark brush strokes in one corner of the canvas.

And I wonder, is this all I’ll ever see?

Stepping back from my painting was a reminder that in my own life all I see is one small section of the picture God is painting. I need to step back from time to time to see it from a different angle. To get a new perspective. To see my life in light of the greater work of redemption God is doing in my life. To see it in light of eternity.

While it’s true that I won’t see the full and complete picture until God is finished, but I can get glimpses of it in Scripture. Like an architect’s rendering of a house before it is built, I have God’s promises of what his finished product will look like. I even know other people in my life whose pictures are a bit more developed than mine and I can see the similar work God has done in their lives. But even more, as I study the Bible, I can see the image of Christ that he’s transforming me into. And rather than despair over the seemingly meaningless brush strokes before me, I can turn and instead watch the master Artist at work, shaping my life to image that of Christ.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I get so caught up in looking at the shapes and strokes right before me that I get discouraged. I fear that my life will never take shape or make sense. That’s when I need a bigger perspective. That’s when I need to step back and view my life through the big picture of God’s work of redemption. I need to look at and take in what he’s completed so far and marvel at how far my life has come. But most importantly, I need to remember it’s not yet finished and when it is, it will be even more breathtaking and glorious than anything I’ve ever seen.

“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6).

On Kuyper, Calvinism, and Art

I consider myself a relatively creative person. I played the flute for many years. I enjoy writing poetry. I love finding new uses for old things.

But I can’t draw to save my life.

I’ve admired the talent of artists who portray what they see onto paper or canvas with skill and accuracy. Both of my children took a drawing class for several years and I was amazed at what they achieved. Even today, my youngest will print out images from the computer to use as inspiration for his drawings. I have a dear friend who expresses her love for Christ in beautiful encaustic works.

I’ve long told myself that one day, I will take an art class.

Recently, I read Kuyper’s Lectures on Calvinism. These lectures were delivered to students at Princeton Seminary in 1898. In these lectures, Abraham Kuyper spoke on the influence of Calvinism on all aspects of life, from government to science, religion to the arts. What stands out to me the most from his lecture on the arts, is that for a Reformed believer, artistic expression is a natural overflow of our theology.

“But if you confess that the world once was beautiful, but by the curse has become undone, and by a final catastrophe is to pass to its full state of glory, excelling even the beautiful paradise, then art has the mystical task of reminding us in its productions of the beautiful that was lost and of anticipating its perfect coming luster..Calvinism honored art as a gift of the Holy Ghost and as a consolation in our present life, enabling us to discover in and behind this sinful life a richer and more glorious background...arts points out to the Calvinist both the still visible lines of the original plan, and what is even more, the splendid restoration by which the supreme Artist and master Builder will one day renew and enhance even the beauty of his original creation.” (p. 139-140).

The artist images the first Artist, the one who crafted all things. When we paint, draw, sculpt, or craft, we reflect the One who made us. And in doing so, we bring him glory. But even more, the arts can be a spiritual exercise, a way to express what God is doing in us, in this world, and in the world to come. Like music, artistic expression speaks to the human heart in a unique language. It goes beneath the surface, to our very heart and speaks to our emotions: our longings and hopes, our heartaches and sorrows, our dreams and aspirations. It speaks to the sorrow in all of us of a world fallen and broken from sin and to the hope we have in seeing all things made new.

You might say that Kuyper and Calvin have inspired me. As a result, I decided to take an art class this summer. Whatever comes of it, my prayer is that I what I learn will help me express my love for Christ. I hope to gain skills to sketch or paint what I see in the world around me. And to live out my theology through creative expression. As Kuyper said, “If a common man, to whom the world pays no special attention, is valued and even chosen by God as one of his elect, this must lead the artist also to find a motive for his artistic studies in what is common and of everyday occurrence, to pay attention to the emotions and the issues of the human heart in it, to grasp with his artistic instinct their ideal impulse, and lastly, by his pencil to interpret for the world at large the precious discovery he has made.” (p. 150)

A Writer's Prayer

The last few years, I've found myself speaking on a topic I didn't anticipate speaking on. Yet, I've found myself speaking to college students, participating in panel discussions, and leading workshops on this topic. I've mentored people in person and answered questions via email on the subject. And though it was unexpected, I've enjoyed it. I’ve loved helping people find their place and encourage them in the journey. What is that topic? Writing.

People write for many reasons. Some find it therapeutic. It’s a way of releasing emotions. For some, writing is the way they process their thoughts. There's something about putting your thoughts onto paper that helps you see and understand them in a way you didn't before. Some, like me, don't even know what they think about a topic until they write about it. The very process of writing helps them think through an issue.  

For others, writing is an art form. It's a way of painting a picture, but instead of using a paintbrush, they use words. The craft of taking 26 letters and arranging them into words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs is a creative act.

For still others, writing is a way to teach and instruct. It's used to communicate a message. Such writing compels people to think differently about something, differentiates truth from fiction, and helps solve a problem. Writing is a means to an end rather than the end itself. 

For all believers who write, whatever form of writing we do, and whatever context we do it in, it's all for the glory of God. "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31). Whether we write fiction, non-fiction, poems, or newspaper articles, each word is for the honor and praise of God. We magnify him in our writing when we work hard and write well. We highlight his wonder and majesty when we use words to point readers to who he is and what he has done. We reflect him when we write for his praise and not our own. When we craft beauty out of words, it's a way of imaging and reflecting our Creator God to the world around us. In all these ways, we write for God and his glory. 

Like all things in life, we can do nothing apart from Christ (John 15:5). Writers must abide in him and rest in his grace, wisdom, and strength. One of the ways we do that is in prayer. Like all the things we submit to our Father, we must submit our writing to him as well, asking him to use it for his glory and praise. 

A Writer’s Prayer 

Father in Heaven,

You are the Maker and Creator of all things. You spoke this world into being and keep it in its orbit. By your word, all things exist. You watch over each creature and know the stars by name. Your word made flesh, Jesus Christ, shows us who you are. And your written word feeds, strengthens, and sanctifies your children.

As your image bearer, you made me to reflect you to the world around me. You gave me gifts and abilities to use in my life and work. One of the ways I image you is in my writing. I thank you for this gift. I thank you for the joy I have in weaving words together. Words are an amazing thing, they have the power to build and the power to destroy. They can point to you or away from you. They can honor and glorify you or honor and glorify ourselves. 

Forgive me for the ways in which I have stolen your glory in my writing. Forgive me for the ways in which I have not glorified you in the words I have written. Forgive me when I fail to use the gift you've given me in a way that honors you, when I waste the gift and horde it, or when I fear what others think of my writing more than I fear you.

Help me to continue to grow in this gift. Help me to use words to build and not destroy. Help me not to worry or fret about how you will use my words, but to entrust them to you, knowing you will use them in the right time and for your eternal purposes. Whether one person reads them or many, may they be used to exalt and magnify you.

In everything I write, may it be for you. 

Because of Jesus I pray, Amen.