Does anyone remember the old Victoria Magazine? In the ‘80s, I could hardly wait for the next issue. Every word, watercolor and poem drew me in. The vintage handwriting, the soft pastel watercolors were headers for each article. A line or two from a favorite poem graced the pages around its content. I spent hours looking, reading and storing the monthly issues in a safe place. The heart of the magazine matched mine. It was perfect.
But then, in the ‘90s, I noticed a change. Words on the front cover came from the computer in bold block font. It had a slick, polished look. The watercolors and poetry disappeared. The magazine became full of advertisements. I’d scan through it, flipping pages in disappointment, and it ended up in my wastepaper basket.
What in the world happened? They did not stay true to themselves. Did some young kid with graphic skills and new ideas become the editor in charge? Was it about money? Did they forget the readers? Did they lose respect for what was birthed in the magazine?
We live in a state of flux and change is inevitable. Some changes are good and some aren’t.
I learned what God began in me was a good thing. That was the day I started liking, knowing and understanding how God put me together. All the things I rejected about me were my greatest assets to grow in grace. I stopped apologizing for myself and saw his purpose to accomplish what he intended me to be. I embraced God and I embraced me. God knows what He’s doing.
I see that old Victoria Magazine as a metaphor, with the homespun look, the heart of home, family and allowing the artists who love beautiful things to grace their pages. I invited artists and writers into my home and gave them a gallery wall to show their craft.
Years ago, in an art class, the lesson was about flux. The teacher instructed the art students to take six sheets of paper and a supply of brushes and watercolors. We were to go into the woods and find a comfortable place to sit and find a scene we wanted to paint. We would set up our palette and stay there, painting the same subject over and over again.
Finding the perfect rock to sit on, I sat near a running creek and large, standing trees. The water moved slowly in the creek. Swirling leaves dodged the fixed stones. During the day, the weather changed — sunlight turned into shadows, a slight breeze whipped around into a strong wind and returned to calm. Then the afternoon rain came. I placed a plastic rain jacket over my watercolor paper and myself and waited. Then I began painting again.
In five hours I executed the same subject multiple times. Each painting became freer. I took more creative license. The subject’s mood changed with the weather. Six paintings, placed side by side, showed the identical trees, rocks and creek, but with different renderings.
I was fascinated with this lesson on flux. The subject remained true to itself as it changed. I saw my spiritual life as an influx of growth. Even though I stayed on the Lower Blanco, I transformed internally and upwardly. I never lost who I was.
Excited over this word flux, I described my life to a friend as “a life of spiritual influx.” I could even use this word as a title for a book. My friend said, “Influx sounds like a digestive problem. It could mean a flowing of fluid such as diarrhea or dysentery.”
Oh, heaven forbid. No. No. No.
My life has been in an upward change as I have understood this spiritual journey. I have been tweaked, stretched, brought low and high, and each time it has become clearer to me who I am in this book called life. I am still the same person that stepped onto this barren land on the Lower Blanco in 1965, hauling water from the Blanco River, but I have grown spiritually to a better me.
Life has rushed in and there is a state of fluctuation around us, yet the Lord has so generously blessed us without losing the original idea. He wants us to be mindful of who He created us to be. Without Him, we could lose who He says we are.
God is pleased to tell us through David’s words, “… I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well … Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them.” — Psalms 139:14-16 (NKJV).
Final brushstroke: The editor didn’t nurture the magazine’s original idea. Thoughtlessly trying to do what they thought was better, they lost readers like me. No longer did I dream and create in my mind beautiful and lovely things as I sucked the sweet nectar from each page. I loved that magazine in its originality. It fed the creative soul in me. They didn’t stay true to themselves as the influx of life took over. A tip for all of us, we are perfect just the way God made us.
Send your comment to bettyslade.author@gmail.com.
Views expressed do not necessarily represent those of The SUN.
