I stopped in at the art store, the time of the month to collect on any art sold.
I looked towards “my wall” and there they were, “all my girls”.
We talked of business being slow and of shoppers being a little scarce. I listened, and for a second drifted towards the pity place. I turned to leave and said ” See you soon.” Then stopped, turned back and she looked up from her work to hear me announce…
“It’s never been up to me, what happens with the paintings. I’ll keep painting and see where God takes them next.”
No reply from the shop owner just a nod that said “I know, Lisa. I know this because I know you.”
What I expect gets all messed up in the mix of what comes true. You’d not believe the number of angel paintings I’ve sold or given as gifts if I could recount . You might not believe either that God led me to love writing, rekindled two flames from tough times.
You might, no should believe there have been days marred by thoughts of others thinking I think too much of myself, my words, my canvas.
You would be correct. Certainly days that prideful and glorious expectation took all the joy away and made it prideful pursuit to sustain my worth instead of gentle and humble, happy revelation of what God could do through my hands and thoughts.
Yes, plenty of moments of “too much Lisa”, not enough Jesus.
So, he causes a pause in the fury of it all, the addiction of being praised and noticed.
I’ve learned to love the pause; I know it’s wisdom and wonder and wonderful.
That I’m writing and painting and waiting seems to be my place now, a slight lull, a place of a simmer.
So, I know, the embers are there and I’m expecting God will decide when and how the fires will burn, burn for Him.
“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”
1 Peter 5:10 ESV
Linking up with others to write prompted by “expect” .