Of Canvas and the Painting of It

http://www.flickr.com/photos/
billiecordova/5400468107/

  I laid on my back in a green grassy field and watched the clouds gently float by. I squinted my eyes, trying to concoct shapes out of the fluff. After spying a strange looking face, a fire breathing dragon and a fuzzy kitty, I rolled back onto my tummy and looked over at Jesus who was sitting beside me with a canvas and palette of paint. His calloused hands moved the brush with ease and precision as he blended colors and shapes into a beautiful sunset landscape. I propped my chin in my hands and smiled.

"You paint such beautiful pictures." I sighed. Jesus eyes sparkled as He turned towards me.

"Thanks." He replied "It's one of my favorite things to do." 

"It looks so real!" I exclaimed as I admired His handiwork "Like I could just walk into it!"

Jesus laughed as He added a bit more red to the sunset. As I watched Him continue to paint, I noticed the sparkle disappear from His eye, and the paintbrush droop as He looked sadly off into the distance. I sat up.

"What's wrong?" I asked. He looked at me and forced a small smile. 

"Just thinking..." He said softly. I waited for Him to continue. He set down His brush and paint, stood up and offered His hand to help me up. 

"I want to show you something." He told me. I stood up rubbed my hands together gleefully. 

"Another adventure?" I asked. He shook Head.

"Not this time." He said "Just something I think you should see."

"Works for me." I said, not sure why He was still so sad.

He took my hand and we started walking through the field. 

  We soon came across a young girl also sitting in the field. As I got closer, I saw that she had a canvas and paints. Curious, I came up behind her to see what she was painting. It was a beautiful portrait of her. It was the most lifelike painting I'd ever seen - it captured every detail about her from the mischievous glint in her eyes to the soft sprinkling of freckles across her nose. It was breathtaking. Suddenly, my hands flew to my mouth in horror as she clumsily scooped paint up onto her brush, and smeared it across the portrait, attempting to cover the freckles. I saw Jesus wince beside me as she smeared more paint on different areas of the canvas that she thought didn't look quite right. By the time she was done, you could never have guessed how beautiful the painting had originally been. As she stood up and walked away with her painting, Jesus motioned for me to follow Him. Not far off there was another young woman with a beautiful portrait of herself, only this time instead of smearing paint all over it herself, she was paying someone else to paint over her portrait. And while the man she paid was obviously very skilled and trained, what was left was a mere shadow and imitation of what the painting had been before. I felt my eyes begin to fill with tears as I turned around and saw another woman painting black letters and designs on her portrait, all the while declaring loudly that it was her painting and that she could do what she wanted with it. 

  As we kept walking, I saw many people with their paintings around me. Men and women of all ages. Some of the paintings they carried had been neglected and were falling apart from lack of care while others were so obsessed with their paintings that they had no time to see the beauty of the field around them and the other people that were in it. 

I turned and looked up at Jesus. Tears filled His eyes as He wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"I painted every one of those portraits." He said softly "I spent days adding details and unique features to each one. Each is different and special. And now look at them. These people are more concerned about what others think of their paintings than what I think."

I stood in silence, not sure what to say.

"Why don't they ever like their painting the way I make it?" continued Jesus "It doesn't matter how I paint it - they're never happy. There's always something they'd like changed or think should be fixed. What's even more sad, is that so many care more about their painting than they do about getting to know me, and letting me change their perspective and make them beautiful from the inside." He looked at me sadly.

I suddenly remembered the painting Jesus had given me. I turned and ran across the field to my house where I had tucked it away. I pulled it out of it's corner and blew the dust off it. To my chagrin, there smeared straight across it, was my attempt to paint over it. I sank to my knees as a tear rolled down my cheek. I now realized that it wasn't beautiful because it was perfect or flawless in my eyes or anyone else's, but because it was Jesus who had painted it just as it was. I heard footsteps behind me and turned towards Jesus

"I'm so sorry..." I whispered through my tears

"I forgive you." He whispered back. He sat down beside me and pulled me close. "You know" He said "I might be able to fix it."

I looked up at Him hopefully

"It'll take a lot of time and patience, but I think I might be able to get some of that extra paint off to see what's really underneath."

"I'd love that." I said as I offered Him my painting and He tucked it safely under His arm.

"You're so special." He said with a smile

"Only because you made me that way." I winked.

Of Locks and the Opening of Them

http://www.flickr.com/photos/10550313@N04/

   I stood in front of a large door, and contemplated the label that stretched across the front of it. 'Shalene's Life Doors' it read. I tilted my head to one side, and chewed my bottom lip in thought. Not coming to any satisfying conclusions, I decided there was nothing left to do. I opened the door. It lead to a large room full of more doors. Having seen this kind of thing before on movies, I checked the door I had just walked through. To my relief it had a large, clearly marked exit sign above it. Satisfied that I would be able to find my way back out, I began slowly making my way around the room.

  Each door was clearly labeled. One that immediately caught my attention was one labeled 'Motherhood'. I opened the door, and peeked in. Sitting and playing on the floor was my baby girl, who giggled happily when she saw me before going back to playing with her toys. I smiled and shut the door. I began opening all the other doors in the room - some were locked with a sign that read 'coming soon', while others swung open easily so I could either peer inside and see where they led, or step inside and experience what they had to offer. About halfway through, I reached for a doorknob, but as I was about to open it to go through, a hand shot out in front of my face and slammed it shut.

Surprised, I looked up at the person.

"Why'd you shut my life door?" I asked, irritated.

"You can't go in there." they replied

"Um, excuse me, but it's my door, and I can go in if I want to."

"No you can't."

"And why not?" I asked, attempting to humor them.

"You're not good enough."

"Excuse me?"

"You're too young to go through that door. Wait until you are older and have more experience." I frowned as they pulled out a large, strange looking lock of their own and began to secure it to the door as they continued talking.

"See, it's for your own good. This way you won't get hurt or cause a ruckus. It's probably better that you never go through this door. Leave it for someone else to figure out."

"Now wait just a minute!" I protested as I grabbed their hand and stopped them from applying the lock. "Like I said - this is MY door. Not yours. I can do what I want with it."

"Fine, whatever, have it your way. Let's do this." They said mockingly as they stepped back.

"Thank you." I said as I grabbed the knob and opened the door to go in. Suddenly, I tripped and landed flat on my face. I winced in pain as I stood back up. I shot a glare back to the person behind me - the prime suspect for the cause of my fall.

"Did you just trip me?" I accused.

"Me? No. I was totally for you going through this door remember? I said you should do it. Why would I trip you? That's ridiculous - how dare you accuse me!" They grabbed my hand and pulled me back outside the room. "But what did I tell you? You got hurt. See? I told you it was better for you to stay outside this door." They whisked out their lock and promptly secured the door shut as I stood and rubbed my sore nose.

"Whatever." I spat - thoroughly annoyed "This isn't worth it." I waved them off and turned around to walk away. As I spun around, I bumped into Jesus.

"Woah there, where you going so fast?" He asked, brushing some dirt off my shirt "Aren't you going to go through that door? You went and checked out all the others, and I think you'll really like what's behind this one."

"No, that person there says I can't, and I don't want to keep fighting them." I rolled my eyes.

"Well, looks like they're gone now, why don't you try again?" I looked behind me to the door, and sure enough, no one was there anymore. So I shrugged, and walked over to it. I turned the handle and pulled, but nothing happened. I raised an eyebrow as I looked and saw the lock that had been placed there. I attempted to unlock it, but was unsuccessful. Now utterly fed up with the whole process, I gave up. Whatever was through that door certainly couldn't be worth the trouble to get it.

"I don't care anymore." I told Jesus "Let's just find another door that doesn't have people who trip and insult me, and put impossible locks on them, okay?"

I caught the disappointed look in His eye as I began to walk away, but pretended I hadn't. Soon we were exploring all kinds of other doors, and having marvelous adventures in some of them, but that one door was always at the back of my mind, and I wondered what was really behind it.

Late one night, I walked up to it, and looked at it. It was dusty, dirty and dark in the moonlight, and the lock was now rusted shut. I gingerly tried again to open it, but it was stuck tighter than ever.

"Still stuck?" Came Jesus voice from behind me. I jumped before shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Yeah." I replied. "Just... just curious I guess."

"You should be." He told me as he came up and slowly wiped away the dust off the sign on the door. "I had great things for you behind this door. But you had to go through it."

My heart sank, and I shrugged.

"Oh well. Not like I could get in now anyways. There's still a lock on it."

Jesus ran His carpenter hand over the lock.

"This is a popular one." He said, partly to me, partly to Himself. "It's a lock made up of the lies we're told by others. So simple, yet so effective. And so easy to unlock."

My ears perked up.

"You can unlock it?"I asked

"All it takes is some Truth." Jesus said as He turned to face me "A little bit of My Truth and this thing will pop wide open." He pulled a chain from around His neck with a key dangling on it and handed it to me. I took it, and looked into His sparkly brown eyes

"With Me," he said quietly "all things are possible. You can do anything."

I put the key in the lock, and immediately the whole this dissolved. I opened the door and peeked inside. Sunlight hit my face, music tickled my ears, and exotic new smells wafted around me. Jesus leaned in over my shoulder and put His face near my ear.

"Ready for an adventure?" He whispered

"Ready." I grinned.