by WhisperPenAccording to the observer, every painting tells a different story.
I believe as you look deeply into my paintings, you may see not only where you are, but also where you are going.
We unconsciously tend to survey our surroundings and conclude what we see through our own eyes as truth. Then proceed with the old belief of Seeing is Believing.
But is this true?
Is what we see with our eyes always accurate, or is there a small chance we may be misinterpreting what our mind desires to comprehend? An ancient verse still rings true today
The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.
Who we are within, is strongly influenced by the path of life our feet have travelled?
Everybody at some time in their life has walked along a road that seems to be littered with broken glass. Living day by day, unsure of the next step, hesitant if tomorrow’s step will again bring pain, or finally lead to the road of freedom.
But we must go on and face tomorrow.
After such a tiring journey, one becomes weary, and with tired eyes may only see the same old road ahead.
But do we believe what our tired eyes see?
This is so easy to do…. and at times, I have done just that, but…then as I looked again, I saw something I had never seen before…. Such as I saw in this painting.
Here is my story.
I believe I paint what my mind sees, so with this painting I intended to simply paint a solitary person walking through a stormy sea, towards the shoreline of hope that led to a distant cloud of restoration. However, the finished result revealed an entirely different perspective. One that challenged my current ethos.
I was not alone, closely silhouetted by another, one much stronger than I, who held me close ensuring my feet did not falter and my path remained straight.
However, my path was not directed towards a warm sandy shoreline, but a long band of fire. The illusion of walking through the storm to take hold of that distant cloud of hope was shattered, like broken glass on a hot summers’ road. My heart melted with despair.
As others celebrated the joy of this refining fire, I did not.
The ensuing days consisted of silently pondering how to endure further refinement when one feels most tired and empty. An assignment I felt primed to fail.
So, as the little battles of discontent arose, with foreknowledge and resolution, I did my best to accept the refining process.
But then came a question from the One who embraced me in the storm –
Why such resistance?
My one-word response was brief and true; FEAR !
Not fear of the fire but fear of failure. Battle worn and tired, my energy to stand and fight was waning.
It was then I realised I was not alone in the fire, His arm was strong around me, He is invincible, He never fails. Like waves of warm oil, the words “Trust Me” resonated through. I was reminded how the Book of Daniel recalls the fate of three men who faced a far greater challenge and trusted not in their own strength but that of their God, the same God who is forever with us. Then all fear left- and there was peace.
They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them.
So every painting tells a story. It all depends on your perspective. What are you really seeing?