Crying in art supply stores . . .

Earlier in life, I made a living painting wildlife and animal portraits, mostly horses. As a Christian, I used some of the profits to support missionaries. However, there came a day when God clearly asked me to put that behind me. He had other plans for me. At the time, this seemed easy enough, yet over the years I’ve had a strange sensation come over me when I went into an art supply store. It brings tears to my eyes, but I’ve not been able to diagnose it. Love of color, a desire to paint again? I tried painting to see if I could still do it. It turned out okay but felt no great joy. It was as if I could take it or leave it.

Yesterday we ate at a small café filled with horse photos and artwork. That strange feeling twinged a bit. Later, we stopped at a town-events street sign and it filled me. The tears were there as I read about artistic things and looked at the events involving horses at a nearby center. Later, I prayed asking God what this was about. Silence.

I asked again this morning as I was reading Psalms. The very next one I read said this:

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me. O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore. (Psalm 131:1–3)

That psalm gives the image of a little child who is sitting on mom’s lap near her breasts but not grabbing at her to suckle. The child is weaned and content, near what he once craved but not craving any longer. God spoke to me; I’ve not yet been totally weaned!

I know that some people might tell me that this odd ‘feeling’ is a call to go back to what I was once very good at doing, but I know this is not so. Instead, it is a feeling of nostalgia and a desire for that which God asked me to leave behind. As I thought about that, I went to today’s devotional passage and read this:

For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God. (1 Corinthians 2:2–5)

This is a clear call to what God is saying about passion. It is not that I cannot ever paint anything or be around horses and other animals that I used to paint, or work with color (I make art quilts and quilts for needy people), but that my passion is the Lord Jesus Christ and all that is true about Him.

I’ve also learned that whatever I do, whether telling others about Jesus and sharing the good news of His death and resurrection, or simply making a quilt, I need the power of God to do it. Just a quilt made in reliance upon Him becomes a demonstration of His love in the mind of the person who receives it. This has been made known to me many times even though I do not understand how God makes Himself known that way.

Now I realize that odd feeling is a tug to go back to a former way of doing things, a tug like that of a child that has not yet been weaned from that former way or learned to be content without it.

^^^^^^^^^^^

Lord Jesus, this was an unusual and quick answer to a prayer and to a puzzle that I’ve experienced many times in many years. The sense of knowing and trusting You is far more incredible than anything else I could know or experience. For that reason, I am filled with joy at finally understanding why I’ve cried in the aisles of art supply stores. I suspect it will never happen again.

Motivated by . . .

Motivations can be subtle. I’ve done things in selfish ways without realizing that I was looking for personal gain. Sometimes the lights come on afterward — when no one thanked me and I pout, showing me that being recognized and applauded took the upper hand over simple kindness. Sometimes the pastor brings a sermon that exposes selfish motives. Sometimes I realize I have them when I hear the confession of others with the same problems.

Christians know that only by the power of God can we overcome our selfishness, but waiting for Him to zap us into compliance is not the answer. Paul says that doing things selflessly is a choice . . .  

For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God. (1 Corinthians 2:2–5)

Choosing the power of God that was displayed in the death of Jesus Christ takes some forethought. That choice needs a deep realization that evil was most demonstrated at the slaying of pure innocence, but evil was also conquered by the same event. That is, the worst event in the history of redemption was also the pinnacle of redemption. This is the astonishing power of God.

The practical point for Christians is this: God might put us in dire situations and use us in those awful places in a mighty way. In other words, serving Him in total selflessness might not be very comfortable. Not only that, seeing the good He is doing will likely be impossible, as will the ability to willingly remain in that awful place even if we have figured out why He wants us there.

I’ve been involved in a ministry that literally threw me into the place of one of my greatest temptations. How uncomfortable. After weeks of asking God why, and weeks of fear and trembling, He showed me that if I would determine to rely totally on Him, my weakness could be the avenue for His power. Like Paul, I’ve pleaded three times and more about this, but He says to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Because of that, I’ve learned to cling to Him. He teaches us to live in this world and resist all temptation to do anything selfish, but the only way is by trusting Him all the time. I’ve not yet been able to “boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses” or be “content with weaknesses” but He shows me that “when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:8–10). He uses tough challenges like that one to keep my focus where it ought to be.

Today’s devotional reading talks about the subtle nature of motivation in doing any ministry of obedience to God. I can start thinking that my written or verbal presentation of the truth has to be perfect so God can use me, instead of having confidence in the power of the truth. The difference sounds slight, but one relies on God and the other on me.

Relying on God needs to be a daily thing, an all-the-time thing. That trust cannot shift to the way things are going either. If I teach a study, or visit a needy person, or have folks over for dinner, and my teaching or talking don’t go as well as I’d hoped, then what? If I burn the soup or put too much spice in the dessert, will I consider the entire thing a disaster?

If I go into anything relying on my performance and thinking more about myself than about those I serve, then bad experiences would certainly mean failure, at least in my eyes. Yet consider this: if my friends need assurance that failure isn’t the end of the world, God could be giving me an opportunity to show them that.

Of course, the right motivation is to trust God with all things. As I rely on Him and the power of the Holy Spirit, He can do great things with whatever happens, clarity and excellence, or burned soup. Faith is only as good as what it is rooted in, and if it is rooted in experiences, all kinds of silly stuff can upset my faith. But if it is rooted in Almighty God and His great power to create something out of nothing and to use all things for good, then I am secure. Feeling weak is not a bad thing if it keeps me in close relationship with Jesus, and keeps my motivations solidly in Him instead of shakily in me.