© November 18, 2009
modified November 24, 2009
.
.
When I paint
People see it as my gift
When it is God gifting me
With His presence
.
He holds my hand and uses me as His paintbrush
.
Because they cannot see further than me
To the real painter beyond the canvas
Their appreciation is fleeting
based on colors and composition and brushstrokes
They don’t see that it is all God’s palette
And whatever color
Whatever arrangement
However heavy or light my caress
It is His Creation
.
And it is perfection
.
I am tired of sharing God
To the critics and colorblind
I consider capping my paints
Leaving my canvas empty
Or blocking God out
Painting with my own hand
.
While the canvas will lack the touch of Grace
At least I could accept the insults as my own
.
But I like to paint
And when I do
God is always present
Working through me
Coloring my canvas
With His touch
.
I wish they would learn
To open to God
To be painters
Instead of commentators
To appreciate God in His presence
No matter what color He chooses to paint
