A New Circus

copyrighted art by Sandra Lee Baron

 "Bring ‘em on in ma’am,” the director said as he waved his hand toward the entrance hall. 

“ This way madam,” called the helper.

“Here I will help you with that elephant sized one,” as he reached and balanced his weight against the heaviness of the painting.

I could feel my heart beating as hard as when I was a child watching a three ring circus.  I was seeing the acts assemble.  My eyes gathered the views created by the bright colors of the artists' palettes.  Paintings were leaned on walls waiting to be judged by the curator.

“This one is magnificent,” I whispered in a low voice.  I was lost on the lighted path that led me to a tree gathering, trees of every hue and color.  A master’s hand painted each leaf with flare and each tree was given honor for its own beauty.

“Ah, look at this one,” I chattered.  A small child was perched on a stone wall seeing the wonderment in a playful squirrel.  The wall was alit with sunlight that created beaconing shadows. As I lingered in front of the painting, I wondered how the artist could create such a clear emotion in the eyes of the child.

Again I heard, “Come right in, sir.  Come this way. “ The passageways were getting more crowded as the hour passed.  One young artist carried a giant canvas covered with lush roses, pink roses that asked to be picked for pleasure.

It was a parade of art.  I was at the Richmond Art Museum last week.  As I entered my art in the RAM show, I watched other artist bring in their art creations to be judged.  The excitement, color, and happenings reminded me of a circus.  These talents were not displayed under a tent, but instead housed in the restored art wing , which displayed the fine architecture of the early 1930’s.

copyrighted art by Betty Ann Fraley

On this sunny afternoon, folks were demonstrating their ability to create beauty.  On exhibit were abstract autumn scenes, representative barns and fields, impressionistic trees, and life size portraits. Everyday life was interpreted by artist from their own view, their art vantage point. Each painter hoped to be juried into the show.  But, from my view, everyone was a winner.  The artists had captured moments of life and displayed them on canvas.

As a child I had problems at the circus.  I didn’t know which act to watch.  It was the same at the museum.  Every painting had worth and wonder.  It was a splendid day spent in color, space, and balance.  Each painting was evidence of the Creator within each of us.   Whether viewing the beauty or painting the subject, the Creator allowed us a glimpse into glory.

Faith in Him, not Me

,f 

What Is In Your Hand?

While reading in Exodus this morning, I was reminded of how Moses tried everything not to be God’s messenger to the Egyptians. Moses pointed out his age, his poor command of the language,and his inabilities. God knew his heart. God knew Moses had a heart of wax that could be molded by the Spirit of God. God trusted that Moses would eventually listen to God's call. To further persuade Moses, God asked, "What's in your hand?"

For some reason, Moses' first reaction gives me comfort. I too have many times told the Lord I am not equipped to be His messenger. I too have inwardly been asked, “ What is in you hand?”

It is a sobering question to answer before the Lord. He has made me and given me my gifts, my inclinations, my heart for Him. I must be honest before Him because He knows me. He knows me so much better than I know myself.

I thought I could not manage or live through Alzheimer’s with my mother. God showed me that in my hand was optimism. I could be by her side and cheer her with my presence. I could offer her art opportunities , so she could still be involved in color. Recently, I found one of the notebooks where we had drawn butterflies, flowers, and spring blossoms. Because of her foggy mind, Mamma’s pictures were distorted, but her colors were loud and strong. I would applaud her efforts and command of color. She would smile sweetly . This brought me such joy. God knew what was in my hand.

Another time God asked me to go to Kazakhstan. At first , I was so reluctant. I drug my feet. My excuses were: I don’t know the language, it is too far away, I was taught fear of Russia as a child, I am not ready, and I did not have that much money. I sounded a bit like Moses. My lack of confidence was in me. I wasn’t giving credence to my God and His power, His words, and His favor. It took me a couple of years to trust Him totally. Finally, I listened and said, “ I am weak but You are strong. Let’s go together.”

I should have responded that way immediately. Gratefully, He knew my heart. He knew I had to prepare my spirit to rely on Him , not me. He knew what was in my hand . He knew I could be used to touch the educator’s hearts and minds in Kazakhstan. My visits there have given me growth, insights into their culture, and best friends. God knew what I needed to develop me and help them. He knew the gifts He had given me and only asked me to use them, and He would do the speaking, the demonstrations, and guide my teachings. Again, leaning on Him , following His urging brought me such joy and understanding of His power, His presence, and His love.

These difficult times have developed my faith, my trust , and love of God. I pray today that my heart is waxen, not hard like Pharaoh’s . May this week bring us all a week of listening and learning. May we answer willingly and come to realize what is in our hand.