I scrambled for something to write about for the next deadline. I’d been in the hospital for four days from this horrible respiratory syncytial virus.
Time to pull myself up by the strings of my house shoes — throw off my robe, cinch up my belt, hook up my bra and get back to life. It felt good to let it all spread out, but that’s not living.
Time is getting shorter. There is more living behind me than in front of me.
I plowed through my mind, turned over the dirt and dug deep. Not one word came. I’ve written 700 words on the premise of just one word before. Surely something has come from this latest adventure. But, nothing I want to write about.
I scanned through some of my old “Artist’s Lane” articles. Surely there is inspiration in some of my old writings. I found this one, “In the Making! Completed” written in 2010 for The SUN.
What was I thinking way back then? How different “being completed” would look like today.
Fifteen years ago I wrote, “We are all in the making. I have the end in view. Many mistakes, trials, and ups and downs, I am getting a clearer picture of what this Earth’s experience is all about.”
Today the picture is not what I expected. Promises I hung on to are coming to fruition. They are better than how I thought they would be. I would not have recognized God’s faithfulness if I hadn’t struggled all those years trying to walk this journey in faith.
An old idea surfaced from 10 years ago on Facebook. My good friend, mentor and encourager, posted a picture of a painted palette, which he had turned into a mouse pad.
It reminded me that after painting each oil painting, I used the extra paint to smear across the palette, turn it into its own design, and I called it, “The Final Brushstroke.” I used the painted board as a companion piece. I made wall hangings from them. I turned them into placemats for the table. There was no end to all the ideas I used for these painted palettes with the leftover mixed paint.
I use this idea as my last statement for my “Artist’s Lane” articles. I gather up my words. Instead of leftover paint, I’d finalize the take-away theme in the article. Thus was born the “Final brushstroke.”
Final brushstroke: I have learned that our history is just small moments in time. Today, not much paint is left over for great ideas. I’m not ready to sign my name, date it and believe it is the best I can do. Small moments are happening and I’m still in the making.
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Views expressed do not necessarily represent those of The SUN.
