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.
It’s a rainy day here in the UK, with people either snuggling up inside or donning the waterproofs (or yes, going to work). The cricket at Lord’s will probably be interrupted and carers of children across the land will long for sunshine.
I love this work of my dad’s with his abstract take on sea and sky and boats. (Or more probably a lake – I do need to get some artist’s notes from him! “Sea and sky” sounds more poetic, don’t you think?)
If you were to get into a boat today, where would you go? What type of a boat would it be? Would you get seasick?
Do you long for sunshine, or will you enjoy the rain today (if you receive some)?
By this time of the year, the pond where I like to walk along the Dollis Valley Greenwalk gets decidedly murky and green with algae. I stand by it and think of all that lives within and around it – the plants and insects and birds and ducks and perhaps even fish. All covered with a blanket of green.
What lies beneath the surface of what we wear on the outside? Do we don masks, covering the pain and insecurities? Can we be our true selves? For most of us, I suspect we do some of each.
How could you be more fully your true self today?
Summertime, summertime, and messing about in boats. Will you? Won’t you?
I’m currently in Minnesota, looking at this painting, which is probably six feet high. It’s a majestic painting for a majestic creature. I can’t imagine that heaven won’t have a lot of horses – and dogs, cats, and other animals – giving us joy.
What’s captured your attention lately?
Spring has sprung!
I love the feeling of this painting by my dad, for it makes me think of Springtime growth. I went for a walk in the park today, and took some time to notice the buds on the trees, and the carpet of pink and white underneath the blossoming trees. Spring seems to be such a time of promise. Of new life. Of hope.
What signs of Spring can you glimpse today – in whatever realm?
Tomorrow, on Maundy Thursday, we start in earnest the journey to Jesus’ death and resurrection. We’ll remember his last supper with his disciples. His talk with the disciples when he promises the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, who will come to them. His time of praying in the Garden of Gethsemane.
His betrayal.
His carrying of the cross.
His beating by the Roman soldier.
His body nailed to the cross.
His death.
Lord Jesus, thank you for the cross. Thank you for your love poured out. We worship and adore you. Fill us by your Holy Spirit as you increase our gratitude and love.
As we draw near to Holy Week, when we remember Jesus’ passion – his death and resurrection – I offer you this painting by my father for you to ponder and consider.
What strikes you in it?
What can you do today to get your heart ready to remember?
Here in London we enjoyed a few days of “Fool’s Spring” with its shockingly warm temperatures – shockingly, because the summer-like weather felt distinctly odd in February. This week Storm Gareth has brought wind and rain, and a reminder that damp cold can sink into one’s bones.
But Spring is definitely on the way, and I’m delighting in daffodils on my kitchen table and blowing the breeze outside of my study window. The yearly cycle of new life sprouting out of a seemingly dead ground brings me hope and good cheer.
In which areas of your life do you wish for Spring?
On this first day of Lent, I’m happy again to post this painting by my dad, which he’s entitled:
Matthew 7:14 “…the way is narrow that leads to life…” Ash Wednesday to Good Friday to Easter
What images in it speak to you? What do you see? What might God be saying to you through it?