It Can't Be Just Me....

101_0032 It can't be just me... This morning, my fingers just wouldn't work. I don't have arthritis, but they just wouldn't do what I wanted them to do.

So I started talking to them.

C'mon fingers, work with me here.

In my mind, (of course), they started to talk back--

Oh yeah? Whadduya gonna do about it? You gonna fire us?

I thought...yeah, like you can find other work... then I snorted, Oh yeah? Look at the index finger!101_0034 There's always the blender!

It can't be just me, can it?

A Beautiful Work

This was my studio today.100_9975 I have no less than 7 projects going at the same time.

I love this!

Although I am a mise en place (a French term that means 'everything in place') kinda girl, especially when it comes to my sock drawer, a messy studio is a delight to me.

It means I'm doing.

It means the creative juices are flowing.

It means I've gotten excited about my passion again.

It means I'm doing work I was created to do!

So I am not surprised to read in my beloved copy of "Come Away My Beloved" by Frances J. Roberts, these words:

"...There is work to be done, and I need you as a vessel through which to work......I want to do a beautiful work.......There will be inconveniences to be born, self-pleasing to be laid aside, and sacrifices and pain--but what a blessed reward I have in store! Yes, in store for you, if you are able to let Me use you the way I desire....

You are not unworthy; you are not unprepared. You have no reason to hold back...draw closer to Me, and I will pour My love out upon you......Lo, I wait for you..."

Chosen. For this. My work. 100_9979

T'was The Day After Christmas..

T'was The Day After Christmas100_9912 T'was the day after Christmas (at least at my house) Our bellies still full of cookies and grouse; The stockings, now empty, were thrown on the floor, With a half-eaten candy cane stuck to the door. Some children, still sleeping, at this stroke of one While others went shopping, hitting sales on the run. Yes, up before 7--it's shopping they went Seeking bargains. YES! Up to fifty percent! There's gift wrap and ribbon, tags and all kinds of doo-dads, The 'not-chosen' gifts that did not make this year's fads. "I'll stock up for next year! Yes, that's what I'll get!" I said as I stacked my cart full at Target. "My shopping will be done, I won't have to scurry Or go to the mall in that mad, insane flurry. Yes! I can be finished! In June if I'm lucky! And all will envy me!" (Won't THAT be just ducky?) But then I paused, my face froze in mid-grin; Had Christmas become just a battle to win? Something to be conquered; a contest? a goal? A competition for biggest and brightest of all? And what about Jesus? What would He say About the way we act around His birthday? Yes, we remember Him before that big day But after--how quickly we all turn away. "Thank goodness it's over!" "We've put on quite a show!" Then we all hunker down and wait for the snow. The rat race continues, empty faces return, Folks with no hope, no Jesus still haven't learned To seek His face daily, yes, each day of the year. Just ask Him in and He will draw near. We need to live it like we believe And not only show it on Christmas Eve.

What Does Your Jesus Look Like?

I remember this baby Jesus from my childhood. The rest of the Nativity scene is long gone, but I still have this baby Jesus. (This could be a post all on its own. But I digress...)100_9898 As a child, I remember asking my mother, "What happened to Jesus' face?"

Growing up in a non-Christian home, my inquiry was met with a vague,"I don't know.", "Don't bother me now.", or the old standby, silence.

Christmas was something we "did", not something we celebrated. We had to buy presents, because it was expected, even though we lived in terrible debt all year. We had to send cards, especially to those who sent us one--(we had a little book to keep track of such things). We had so many have to's, that I have a difficult time remembering happy times as a child.

But just over 26 years ago, I met Jesus.

My son is a first generation growing up in a Christian home. And he, like any small child, asked, "What happened to Jesus' face?" 100_9900

As an artist, I can appreciate the skill that went into creating this piece. The carving of the basket of Jesus' bed, the hay under Him; the finer details are lost but the art piece must have been fine in its day. It dates back before the 1940's. It's not plastic, or resin. It's made of a plaster-like product, but not as heavy. It's chipped, and a little dirty, for it's been handled over and over. 100_9899

"What happened to Jesus' face?" my son had asked again.

I smiled.

I told him, "I believe it's been kissed off."

An Art Piece in CynRGallery

This is a new sculpture, in Phase 1 "Intercession" (October 19, 2011) I am often called upon to pray for others. This sculpture began to take shape in my mind during a particularly tough battle; it involved a friend who kept getting blow after blow--financial, conflicts with children, spouse, speeding ticket, difficult co-workers--the end looked nowhere in sight.

I was reminded how sometimes we can do nothing but pray.

(As I was typing this sentence, I received a prayer request by text.)

[box type="shadow"] "Pray when in the mood, it is sinful to neglect such an opportunity. Pray when not in the mood, it is dangerous to be in such a condition." -- Ruth Bell Graham[/box]