Sort of Knowing


There’s a sort of knowing we only sort of believe and mostly for others.

Most people who at their core believe in a Sovereign God still aren’t always sure that they know.

Back when I sat with families who were numbed by another’s choice to die, a gunshot, pills, or suffocation from hanging, I wanted to talk about God but I didn’t.

I did pray for them without them knowing and I wanted them to stop struggling, stop searching, stop aching over what they didn’t prevent.

Difficult to articulate. I wanted them to have the comfort that something they’d never understand was understood by God.

I wanted them to believe that God knows. That things that come to fruition or never come true, we are not to know.

We can believe, always believe

God knows.

God know us.

I take a pencil every morning and I make sways and lines on paper. I add a lean one way or the other, a simple bob with bangs or a low bun.

The figures represent what God has told me. I don’t call them angels. Others do.

Yesterday, I wrote about waking thoughts and why I believe they’re important, God’s promises.

Today, I said something in my bedside talk with God.

Thank you for my salvation.

Because I have a way of shame-laced praying in which I grovel at God’s feet, as if to say well I don’t know why you love me, did you see I almost did that again, one thing or other…

God’s not that way. He waits for us to see Him, know and believe Him.

These female forms are becoming the evidence of this for me.

A calendar currently being finished up will have one for each month with a sentiment and a verse.

On Friday, I came up with an answer to a question from the buyer of a painting.

What is the story of the girls?

The calendar will have an “About the Artist” inset. I’ve never used the wording and then I realized, this is my Mission Statement.

I emailed the printer:

I’m still contemplating cover image.

Could this be added to the back?

The Artist’s Story

Colorful images of girls in gowns began to develop in the margins of my Bible a few years ago. If reading in the Psalms, a joyful figure would be drawn and shaded softly. If I found myself reading again and again the story of Jesus healing a woman from lasting illness, defending one against attack or comforting one who’d almost given up, I added a reminder to myself, these are the same places Jesus found me, finds us all, brings healing.

I write and paint as a way to convey what I call “Quiet Confidence”, the evidence of strength and hope. Find me at

Isaiah 30:15

Lisa Anne Tindal

Sent from my iPhone

With art, writing, living…there is mystery. There are peaks and valleys. Death and birth. Win and loss.

I take comfort in the truth, what I now believe, not just hope.

I believe I am known.

God longs to have us all know.

When there’s nothing we truly know and when we’re blown away by the truth of what He knows.

I swore I’d never sketch in my Bible.

Not me, prim and fearful church raised girl just hoping to be enough.

He knows.

He knew.

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