The vanishing point
artists know how to, with a flick of bristle and acrylic and color, create that illusion of something that is right there and flat as receding further and further away
a talent I do not have
to make the near seem far away
ever notice God does things, so very often, the opposite of man?
the vanishing point in my life
the pinprick distance I can spot
right before the bend in the road, the climb up
is far off
because today’s now
simple repetitive but beautiful, is the process of being:
shaped and formed
brush stroked and colored
smudged and rubbed
and has everything to do with that vanishing point of tomorrow
my optimism in the good
my despair over the evil
some days it appears to be a mess of running together colors and random textures
like looking at a Monet much too close
some days I am taken by absolute surprise with glimpses of glory and I can’t believe I get to be a part of something so amazing, good, holy
like Isaiah before the throne
But if it is true that God is the creator of this world and of my life and His Spirit is the originator of all those dreams and longing and the tearing of deep satisfaction and empty dissatisfaction in a single heartbeat
then to Him it is a simple piece of stretched canvas of which He is in no hurry to be done with:
this one life I get to live
and my response?
Five Minute Friday has rolled around again.
This is my contribution.
Read more over at the host’s place, Kate, here.
Oh yeah, one more thing:
Daughter #3, aged 9, did this last photo edit herself of a picture I took while we were all sledding on Martin Luther King Day last week.
I wrote the text.
On line editing is my new photo thing.