Life as lockdown eases can feel like we’re crossing a bridge under stormy skies. Is it safe to venture out? Has the worst passed us by, or will spikes of the virus keep reappearing?
May God give us wisdom and mercy.
PS: This bridge has been under construction, and will be for a couple of more weeks, meaning I can’t make my full circular walk in the nearby brook. Even bridges can be blocked at times!
As the coronavirus pandemic continues to build in so many countries, city streets are becoming increasingly deserted. What I like about this painting by my dad, which is a look down a Roman street, is the contrast between the bright colors of the buildings with the lone figures on the street. Let’s say they are self-isolating and are out for their one spot of exercise that day. What lies behind all those colorful buildings? What stories could be told?
What stories are you hearing from behind closed doors? How can I pray for you at this time of fear and anxiety? May you know the peace that passes beyond any city walls; may the peace of Christ be yours this day.
The beginning of Lent can feel a bit like this watercolor of my dad’s – grey, overcast, a bit dreary and rainy. Very English weather, in fact. We don’t know how long we’ll feel like this, and if the clouds will lift.
Many Christians don’t observe Lent – they see the work of Jesus on the cross as freeing them from their sins, and thus Easter is the moment to celebrate, not the time before. I respect that, but also appreciate these forty days before Easter as a time to prepare myself for Resurrection Sunday. A time to examine my heart and mind before God, asking the Holy Spirit to search me and make me more like Jesus.
However you observe the season – or do not – I pray that some shafts of Light will shine through and give you warmth and grace.
Are you more of a mountains or a beach person? Mind, I don’t think you have to be one or the other. I think I’ll claim both. I love the refreshment of soaking up the sun, listening to the waves pounding in musically. But I also love drinking in the cool mountain air, looking up in wonder or cozying down in a welcoming cabin in the woods.
Take a few moments to transplant yourself to this little mountain cabin. What does it look like inside? Who is with you? What are the day’s activities that you look forward to? What will be the feast you return to – perhaps something cooked over the fire? How do you think God might meet you in this mountain cabin?
Our first painting of 2020! My dad just finished this wonderful landscape of life in Minnesota with its atmospheric snow. To create it, he covered the canvas with a number of coats of white paint. Then he painted with his watercolors, and when the paint was almost dry, he took a whittling knife and scraped off some of the paint to get the white highlights. I love it!
Sit with it for a moment as you contemplate the new year. How could scraping back some of the color in your life actually produce something more beautiful?
Recently at the Our Daily Bread writers’ and editors’ conference, I got to lead the prayer sessions. For one of them, while praying we asked God for our words to be “apples of gold in settings of silver” (Proverbs 25:11, ESV). My dad kindly painted these golden apples for us to ponder. What does this image speak to you?
More broadly, what does it mean for your words to be like apples of gold in settings of silver?
I’m still holding onto the last days of summer, with the wonderfully unseasonably warm weather we had yesterday in London. I nearly got burned while working outside! And so for today’s Watercolor Wednesday I give you this delightful painting that my dad created from a photograph I took while on a walk in Southampton (below). It says summer to me.
This is the ancient bridge at Mansbridge, which for centuries was the only road across the River Itchen. We don’t know exactly how old it is, but it’s mentioned as early as 932 AD.
Are you holding onto summer? Longing to see an ancient bridge? Longing for a bridge from where you are to where you want to go? I pray that you’ll find sunshine and warmth and that you’ll be walking the path that brings you life and light.
Eighteen years ago, my husband and I were on holiday in Florida. I hadn’t realized that September was hurricane season, so I was channel surfing inside, watching reruns of ER. As I flipped a channel, I saw what seemed to be out of a horror film – one of the World Trade Centers crashing to the ground. The day was September 11, 2001, a day that will forever be lodged in my mind and heart – and in the minds and hearts of others.
Where were you? How do you remember?
The North Shore of Lake Superior in Minnesota is a special place. It forms the bottom part of the righthand triangle of the state’s outline and is a place for getting out in beautiful nature to camp, swim, rest, relax.
My dad’s painting depicts a lighthouse on the shore – a place of safety that provides light in the darkness.
Wherever you are today, may you find rest, safety, and light.
I’ve so enjoyed the sunsets of late. I’ve shared many of them on social media, but some not. God’s beauty spread over the skies for a fleeting moment… a reminder to soak in the sight with wonder, being fully present.
Here’s a painting by my dad of Lake Calhoun in Minnesota. There’s beauty around us, if we have eyes to see.
What has stopped you in your tracks lately as you’re struck by wonder?