The Breadth of the Brush

Coming up for a breath of air,

Caught between brush hairs, thick with paint.

Broad brushes that cover with a single wide swoop.

Broad brushes that use words like 'all' and 'they' and 'those people.'

Broad brushes that see difference as chasms.

Broad brushes that demonize opposing views.

Broad brushes on social media, by friends old and new.

Broad brushes on news media, by the left and the right.

Broad brushes painting over you and me, 

Masking our complex hues with a single presumptive stroke.

We can't be this without being that.

If we like that flavor of posts, we must dislike this one.

So I stay low, keeping viewpoints private,

Protecting my reputation from the swish of the broad brush.

When I do speak out, my aspiration is to share without condemnation.

Choosing finer brushes that share the canvas with others' views.

Yet even today as I try to attain this more perfect choice,

 I heard my own voice lunge to pick up a broad brush.

After which I heard His ancient reminder,

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. [Matthew 5:7 NIV]

So on the days you mess up and bathe me with your broad brush,

I shall remember the times I have also wielded mine.

And we will continue painting this life together,

In the vivid colors of mutual respect and mercy.

When Your View is Blurry

When you look at this photo, what do you see first? The sunset, the road, or the raindrops on the windshield? I took the photo from the passenger seat to capture a sunset we were enjoying one evening on the road. But the sun is so distant, the road consumes most of the shot. And the rain drops reflecting on the glass make the whole scene fuzzy.

This picture is a great metaphor for life. We have a future in the distance that we’re heading towards. But many days life is made up of a lot of pavement. Pavement that can get long and hard and boring if we look at too long without glancing at the scenery around us. Then there are the times in life when everything blurs behind the rain of problems and uncertainty.

The apostle Paul wrote of this blur in a famous essay on love recorded in I Corinthians chapter 13.  We know it as the love chapter and often hear it quoted at weddings. But he’s speaking of the agape type of love rather than romantic love. A love framed in sacrificial effort on behalf of the recipient. The kind of love that God has for us.  Paul acknowledged that we are walking through this life with incomplete information. We can’t see life with as much clarity as we’d like. We certainly can’t see it like God can.

So what do we do when we can’t see clearly? Paul said it this way in The Message translation.

¹² We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

¹³ But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. I Corinthians 13:12-13 [MSG]

What strikes me is that we would expect two of three of these instructions. If life is blurry with its rain, the advice to trust in God and not give up hope sounds appropriate. It’s a “hang in there” kind of hug.

But love? Love extravagantly? What is up with that advice? Who has time to love like that when the windshield wipers are swishing so fast I can hardly see the road? You said it’s the greatest of the three? Better than trusting and hoping that things turn out for me? A love that costs me something rather than the one that reciprocates? Yeah, that’s the one.

Lord, when life is blurring my view with uncertainty, help me remember that’s the time to love others. Sacrificially. Extravagantly. Like You love me. Things are getting clearer now.

Three Ways to Survive the Dormant Season

January is a little bit plain. In our home, the packing of the Christmas decorations left a simpler décor behind. I welcomed the January simplicity with equal enthusiasm to the December festivity. It felt less cluttered and more restful. It offered a little break before the February valentine’s hearts and Easter/Spring seasonals. But it can feel a little blasé too.

Outdoors, things are a little simpler too. Even in south Texas, the mowing season is on a brief pause. Trees are half bare. The plants in my garden and flowerbeds are brown-edged, nipped by frost, or asleep under protective sheets and tarps. Their growth has stalled as the soil rests up for the next growing season. Ah, the simplicity of the dormant season! Nature thrives on the repetition of the cycle, demanding the season of dormancy as much as it gives the season of growth.

So why are we so uncomfortable when we go through a season of dormancy in our own lives? You know, the times when we feel unproductive or bored or restless. We all have those times. Sometimes we face them with anxious worry. What is wrong with me? Sometimes we welcome them like a vacation between exhausting periods of deadlines.

I have come to terms with my seasons of dormancy. I prefer to be growing, achieving and accomplishing. But I’ve learned how to be content in dormancy by doing three things.

REST – Once you recognize your sense of restlessness, then rest. Conserve your energy. Give your mind, body, and soul time to restore from the last season. Sleep to repair your cells. Give yourself time to recove from the last growth spurt. Spiritually, practice Matthew 11:28[ESV] Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Rest and rejuvenate for the growth that is coming.

EXPLORE - Use this time to explore without committing. A friend once advised me, when I found myself getting restless, to get a poster board and start gluing pictures of things or scenes that spoke to me. It’s a way to visualize and reflect. It helps crystalize thoughts that are still embryonic. It puts dreams to paper. It builds a vision of whatever may be coming next. You may prefer to journal. Or talk to a friend. Or experiment with a new hobby. Or take a class just for fun. As you explore, don’t get attached to any one idea, but stay open. And if you pray, cover your explorations in prayer. Proverbs 16:9 [ESV] The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.

WAIT – Don’t rush the process. A season of dormancy will end naturally when all the conditions are right. If patience isn’t your virtue of choice, this is the hardest part. Scripture has a lot to say about that particular fruit of the Spirit, patience. I love the way Paul encouraged the church about the patience of hope and expectation in Romans 8:22-25 [MSG]. All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

After a few growing seasons in life, we begin to recognize the patterns.  We feel the vacant sense of dormancy and know a season of personal growth is ahead.  It may present its blah self as the boredom of a child on Sunday afternoon or as the calm before the storm. So the next time you recognize it, don’t fight it. Rest. Explore. Wait. Something new is about to grow!