|The Pursuit, Kayenta Arizona by William Robinson Leigh|
|The Watcher by Frank Weston Benson|
|Lincoln's Birthday Flags-1918 by Childe Hassam|
Every Tuesday is free Tuesday at one of our local museums. One is encouraged to leave a small donation if one is a person of any means. But I am in disguise as one of The-Least-of-These when I go, so I slip in unnoticed—a ghost in blue jeans.
I’ve resolved to wear this place out every Tuesday—to go through each exhibit with young eyes. I promise my Companion that we will not rush, that we will go slow and savor; and I pray a constant conversation as we stand before each work of art.
I have been afraid of places like this most of my life. The subtle messages the world sends to a young girl growing up in poverty scream loud in her ears. Museums, upscale restaurants, cultural centers, expensive stores with makeup counters…these were places I didn’t belong. But wisdom comes with each passing year and when God is one’s companion…the feet will make every space holy.
I spend two hours in The Impressionist exhibit. I read each and every sign, drink in color like milk. I am a child, my disguise no longer a false front…I am newly born and all the world is wonder. I have brought some squares of parchment and I pull out my pencil and try to make these paintings come to life with my hands. Later, I will fill them in with color and re-live the beauty of this moment. The joy that lifts inside of me at the curve of a goat’s neck, at the way a horse’s face takes shape under my hand…this is the joy of waking up to a new life—a new Kingdom.
|working of The Pursuit, watercolor pencil sketch by laura|
Madeleine L’Engle, in that book I have read and re-read, dog-eared the pages and underlined in every color imaginable, she says, “We are hurt; we are lonely; and we turn to music or words, and as compensation beyond all price we are given glimpses of the world on the other side ot time and space. We all have glimpses of glory as children, and as we grow up we forget them, or are taught to think we made them up; they couldn’t possibly have been real, because to most of us who are grown up, reality is like radium, and can be borne only in very small quantities.”
And so Tuesdays will be my radium. I feel the danger already. I tremble at this glimpse of eternity and I cradle it close with parchment and graphite, color and light.
How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us:
the Playdates button: