I am blind, be thou my light

ignorant, be thou my wisdom,

self-willed, be thou my mind.

Open my ear to grasp quickly thy Spirit’s voice,

and delightfully run after his beckoning hand;

Melt my conscience that no hardness remain,

make it alive to evil’s slightest touch;

When Satan approaches may I flee to thy wounds,

and there cease to tremble at all alarms.

Be my good shepherd to lead me into the green pastures of thy Word,

and cause me to lie down beside the rivers of its comforts.

Fill me with peace, that no disquieting worldly gales

may ruffle the calm surface of my soul.

Thy cross was upraised to be my refuge,

Thy blood streamed forth to wash me clean,

Thy death occurred to give me a surety,

Thy name is my property to save me,

By thee all heaven is poured into my heart,

but it is too narrow to comprehend thy love.

I was a stranger, an outcast, a slave, a rebel,

but thy cross has brought me near,

has softened my heart,

has made me thy Father’s child,

has admitted me to thy family,

has made me joint-heir with thyself.

O that I may love thee as thou lovest me,

that I may walk worthy of thee, my Lord,

that I may reflect the image of heaven’s first-born.

May I always see thy beauty with the clear eye of faith,

and feel the power of thy Spirit in my heart,

for unless he move mightily in me

no inward fire will be kindled.

-Valley of Vision, p. 102

Someone once told me if you feel out of your league that’s exactly where you should be. Still, insecurity, fear, shame quickly take root in a place where I feel so privileged (and if shame-based, unworthy) to serve. How often I find this “shame” mentality around me and silently within me.

So, in dwelling on God’s grace and all-sufficiency this morning I wrote a poem about these realities that I’m currently feeling and probably many clients will feel as they step into my office. I’m not proud of the “poetic-ness” of this poem, I am proud of the concepts:

Shame

Arrogance-rooted, fear-suited.

     It goes nowhere, finds no one, yet everyone knows.

Satan. He loves you for it.

The trips, dips, finds

     of mind, soul, sleeping.

All for naught,

     you weren’t made for this.

The chains and fame

     empty themselves in the thought of self.

What is more–why?

     Why do you place Life on your

          100 lbs humanly shoulder?

It is not hard to believe our God is stronger.

It is hard to believe our God is NOT a God of shame.

     “He has covered all my sin.”

Believe.

Today is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=au3EGgISYMc&ob=av2e

Turn My Page

Swell my soul, swelling

I don’t wait in bed

but I can’t get out.

Overwhelmed to the dream

come, come, come

home-coming.

I’ve been living for

you.

Free me, hold me, Jesus.

You take me hand every sun &

moon.

Waiting for this plan, excited

for love

first with Thee,

second with Thy creature things.

Doulos: koine greek; slave for Christ.

Zoe: koine greek; life.

Jesus came to give life and slavery. Life through redemptive work of the Cross and slavery to the redemptive work of the gospel.

Constant tension.

I had a conversation with two different people this last week and we talked about how uncomfortable the tension of our faith can be at times. We are both slaves and free. Our slavery guides us toward the greatest freedom, and yet the paradox remains.

Those candle holders I sent pictures of a few weeks ago turned into cups. I could not get away from the idea of imageo dei found in a vessel someone touches with their lips. Furthermore, the line impressions within the cups point toward the glorious tension of binding (slavery) in our faith.

Next you will see a picture of a pot (to use the most sophisticated term) that will soon turn into a tea pot. I love how teapots bring people together, just like the glory of God brings people together.

This series is leading me once again to the reality that the simplistic things in life can have the greatest weight of glory. We will see where it heads next.

Once a professor of mine said we cannot create beauty; we can only point toward it. I can create something that looks beautiful but it is not beauty.

While my pieces may cover many subjects, interests, commentaries, these are simply about pointing toward beauty, toward God.

God is beauty. Beauty is God. But, God is more than beauty.

Thus, this series is inherently ineffective, inefficient, insecure, fallible. But, sometimes I think I can sit in that spot of weakness-recognition and never try. Never try to point, try creating some thing about God and His glory. But I want to try, I want to know.

This series is about more. More than me.

This series is nothing about me and everything about me. It reflects my perspective but I pray it becomes more. More for you. More for a drinker of the cup, lighter of a candle, eater off a plate.

We’ll see… Step 1: a series of candle holders that dangle from the ceiling. What better place to start than with light? I pray these are inspiring, reflective, and more than dirt.

I will include pictures this evening of my progress thus far. I want this process to involve you, I invite you to post your thoughts and suggestions. For now, I leave you with a song that has covered me this week. The emotions from “This Is Not the End” is what I hope to bring to this work.

Enjoy.

Every Sabbath I am confronted with grace once again. Rich, real, priceless, non-cheapened grace. Every Sunday I think of the rock of the tomb and how Earth had no hold on Christ gaining victory over sin and death.

Life!

“You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of dust.”

Happy Sabbath.

Pigeons smell. Just sayin’. Still, they are livin’ and thriving rent free. Naturally, watching these amniotes made me think of the gospel of Matthew:

“Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather in barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” (6:26; ESV).

There are some prayers and desires in my heart that feel impossible for God to answer, to solve. Yet I see my feathered friends outside my sliding door hop, skip, jumpin’, sooaarrring across the sky. Their lifeline is but a ledge and I see how Jesus provides abundantly for them.

God provides for me. Much more, he fights for me. Right now I am learning that I am worth fighting for.

Combining birds+my worth, I logically began thinking about a certain bird called “Booby.”

According to Wikipedia the booby’s, “…name was possibly based on the Spanish slang term bubie, meaning “dunce“, as these tame birds had a habit of landing on board sailing ships, where they were easily captured and eaten.”

Basically these birds are idiots…kinda like humans compared to God. Let’s be honest, we are all idiots. Idiots which He desperately loves.

This long organic thought process landed me on the painting you see below that I finished today, titled, “You’re Worth Fighting For.” It’s a mother booby nestling her chalk blue egg under her tummy. She considers that little egg worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for.

Prime–I Wish U Love by Rachael Yamagata

I am gonna be doing this through out my life, aren’t I?

I have been surprised by the thought that keeps coming to my mind. The thought is: Christ is enough.

I will use one example from life of how this thought keeps coming to me. This blog’s subtitle is “Dirty Hands. Dirty Mind.” The meaning behind such a title comes from my love for processing life and my love for reflecting that processing in my artwork. Well one day as I was processing how to bring my thoughts of “re-approaching” into some ceramic pieces. As I was “brain storming” I just stopped writing, sat down, and didn’t move for ten minutes. My thoughts went blank and then I realized, it is not yet time for me to create those works. In fact, I need a break from creating.

Some would call this “artist’s block” or a “brain fart,” I would like to call it divine intervention. What struck me  was that sometimes there are seasons in the studio where you just have to power through, keep making “bad” art until something comes to you. Then sometimes you need to step back and stop, let life or clay or a person or God “speak” into where the artwork should go next.

Much like life. I am in a place of stopping and watching. Life keeps moving, ideas keep coming but it is time to take that needle tool out of my hand and just be. As I re-approach all these things new meaning is forming. I don’t want to miss out on the “forming” of me lest I get hardened and crumble…just like clay.

I welcome new meaning.

Christ really is enough.