I have a growing collection of landscapes displayed around the house. Mountains and waterfalls, oceans, deserts with palm trees of my son’s creation. The other day, I found him leading his little sister in a painting class of sorts. I glanced up from homeschooling planning as he modeled how to sketch the snowy peaks of mountaintops and paint the triangular trees below.
My daughter followed and painted a picture resembling her older brothers. Both landscapes are displayed beside each other on the fridge for all to marvel at. They aren’t a picture of perfection but a beautiful testimony of their time together.
From the void of nothing, God scattered the stars like glitter and summoned the wild waves of the sea. He brought forth the winding rivers and placed everything needed in a tiny seed to one day become a tree.
In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him. The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land. (Psalm 95:4-5)
We were created in the very image of the one who spun the world into a brilliant masterpiece of the most vibrant greens and deepest ocean blues. Yet, how often do I forget that in those first moments of creating me, without any skills or talents, hard work, or goals accomplished to be seen – he saw that I, too, was very good.
If my life was a landscape painting, unfinished in its making, would he still look upon the dabs of color and lines of chaos as very good? When I’m stuck in this middle, messy space of who I’m becoming, does he still look upon me with absolute joy? Is he tempted to throw me away mid-masterpiece when I fail or mess up? No.
Not because of anything I’ve done or could do. Simply because I was created in his image. He is the Creator. And he is still creating something incredible in me.
Using lines of golden sunshine to highlight the good even in the hard. Interweaving olive green for all areas where I’m still growing and trailing the splatters of tangerine to mark moments of absolute joy. Allowing moments of pain to intermingle with peace, like watercolors mixing to create something entirely new – in their own bittersweet way.
He uses the low and the highlights. He uses the contrast and the harmony. He uses every layer, both hidden and seen. He is there in every texture and mark-making in my life.
Just as the skies show his handiwork with the traces of his fingerprints found in both the dark and the light, so does my life as He weaves together the pain and the joy in time.
He creates beauty from our brokenness. He creates a masterpiece despite the mess. We become a testimony of his love. And of our time spent together. Simply because we are his.
How can we allow the testimony of our relationship with the Lord to shine through our lives? In what ways do you see him still at work in your own valleys or messy areas of life?
About the Author:
Janessa is a mom of three who serves alongside her husband with Cultivate Discipleship Ministries in Northern Uganda. She has a passion for writing about the beauty found in brokenness and loves to create using whatever materials she can find. However, she is more often found sipping an iced coffee while homeschooling, creating art with her kiddos, or enjoying the nature surrounding their home in the African bush.
Connect with Janessa:
@wilderness.writing (Instagram)
