I had planned to kayak yesterday, but got sidetracked by doing an illustration for a potential new job. The herons at the lake where I kayak had it all to themselves. By the time I finished the detailed illustration, thunder clouds had bloomed and my window of opportunity had closed.
I did learn a very handy new tool on my art program. It is called a lasso. I can choose any part of my drawing, use the lasso tool to encircle it, and then put that section of the drawing anywhere I like. So for example, I lassoed the head of my heron painting above, and put the head at its feet. Note, my headless heron below.
Start with a regular boring picture. Use the lasso tool and.....
Endless possibilities! It was almost as much fun as kayaking.
For some reason, this made me think about prayer. I have been on cloud 9 since finding out I don't need chemo and my reoccurance cancer risk is very low. But the joy is marred knowing many of my friends did need chemo, and some didn't survive cancer. They all prayed for miracles too.
I don't understand. If I had a lasso tool that could lop off tumors and replace them all with strong healthy cells, I would. God doesn't. Not always. I don't pretend to understand. I believe in God's goodness, but I don't understand the pain we endure. Sometimes, I see lessons in the pain and blessings in spite of the pain, but it doesn't lessen the physical anguish. My best attempt at making sense of it all is that this world and all that is in it will pass away. Something more important than our ease and comfort is at stake.
I am so grateful for the blessings I have enjoyed. Last night, as I prayed, I asked that God would give me an ability to see beyond things as they are, to what they one day will be. An eternal perspective is the only way to navigate a world of grief.
Meanwhile, I will lasso despair, and replace it with joy as I have opportunity. It is the best I can do.
Heron painting, pastel, 16 x 22, if interested in purchasing, contact email@example.com