He Restores

The gallery that had oodles of my paintings has decided that in this wonderful economy of hope and change, they will need to close. So they had me come pick up my artwork. Over the years, I have brought close to a hundred pieces of artwork to that gallery. I was always thrilled to have the gallery represent me, though frankly, they sold very little artwork. So now what? I have about a hundred paintings, pastels, watercolors which are currently in my dining room, lining the wall. My first inclination was to photograph them. Maybe I will use them in book illustrations, or maybe they will be destined to raise money for worthy causes, like Hollow Creek Farm Animal Rescue, or homeless children. They mean a great deal to me, representing years of my artistic life, so I won't be hasty in where they live.

The photographing didn't go so well. Most are shrink wrapped in reflective plastic, or frames. I didn't want to remove the shrink wrap or the frames, as : 1. it is not easy, and 2. it protects them, particularly since they will need to go in the attic until I decide what their final fate will be. At any rate, photographing art in reflective wrap is not possible. I did my best, but it is not really very good. And really, my art is better than I think the lousy photographs would suggest. Then, when I downloaded the photos onto our computer, our old, slow, crashing computer, it seemed to have eaten the photographs. I found them eventually, two hours later, but the computer kept crashing so that I couldn't copy them onto a nice safe CD. I finally gave up or I would possibly have been incarcerated for doing unspeakably cruel things to inanimate objects. Are there always snafus in life?

Yes.

There are always snafus. Count on it. And then, kick yourself in the butt and make the best of it. It is all you can do. And, God reminds me, trust Him. Learn the lessons those snafus hoist upon you, be patient and good despite the rage and worry, and lean on Him.

I can't hold a candle to the fire of adversity that crackled down on the Biblical widow of Zarephath. When she met the prophet Elijah, she was gathering sticks for a fire for her last meal. She and her beloved son were down to their last bite of food. Troubles troubles troubles! Elijah had them gather jars, and then oil and flour filled the jars each day miraculously. They never ran out. But even worse troubles now stalked the poor widow. Worse troubles! Widowed, then starving...now what? Her son died. Would troubles never cease!? Elijah returns the son to life, through the power of God, in what strikes me as a parallel of another Son that would one day be resurrected. There will always be snafus. Count on it. But God hears our cry- through despair, loss, hunger, pain...and even shrink wrap, He is there and in the end, He restores.


1 Kings 22-23 (NIV)
[22] The Lord heard Elijah’s cry, and the boy’s life returned to him, and he lived. [23] Elijah picked up the child and carried him down from the room into the house. He gave him to his mother and said, “Look, your son is alive!”

-save a dog- hollowcreekfarm.org