Beauty and Chaos

He’s doing an art project.

artist-brush-983590_1280An art project. 

Only two months ago, his little boy died.

Today, he’s working at making something beautiful. 

I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around this one.  I have a few questions.

Does God feel sadness?  How is it that He keeps giving us beautiful things, long after we, made in His image, have hurt and destroyed others, also made in His image? 

Long after we killed His only Son.

Why would He continue to bring us each new gorgeous dawn—each new colorful Spring—He who upholds all with the power of His hands?  (Colossians 1:16-17)

Does He feel sadness?

His Son did, as He walked on the earth.  I’ve told you before of one of my favorite verses in the Bible.  I’ve committed it to memory.  Even now, I can remember it word for word.

Jesus wept. (John 11:35)

Along with His followers, He felt intense sadness.  He had no fear of lessening His influence on them by allowing them to see His tears.  There was no embarrassment in showing His emotional state.

Yet, He was the embodiment of His Heavenly Father.  The exact image. (Colossians 1:15-16)

God feels sorrow.

He feels sorrow, yet He continues to astound us with beauty.

Me?  I mope when I’m sad.  I sit in my chair and sigh pitifully.  I gripe and I grouse, lashing out at those around me.

Work on an art project when I’m down?  Produce things of beauty when I hurt?  Hardly.

He does.

The young artist/father I visited with in my business today does, too.  He, in the midst of the storm, turns to creativity to bring beauty out of his chaos.  Then, when the art project fizzles, he makes music.

From the ashes of catastrophe, he draws out beauty.  

It doesn’t mean the pain of loss isn’t ever-present—a shadow lurking on the fringes.  He just refuses to wallow in it, to let it have the reins of his existence.

The sun didn’t show its face today in the sky.  The gray day worked its way into my spirit in much the same way the cold crept into my bones  But in my store, the brilliant illumination couldn’t be cloaked.

Light overcomes darkness.  Always.

Always.

Maybe it’s time for us to give the dark times to a God who still makes beauty from darkness.

Give your dark times to a God who still makes beauty from darkness. Share on X

I’m thinking brighter days are ahead.

 

 

Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness.
(Martin Luther King Jr. ~ American pastor/civil rights activist ~ 1929-1968)

 

 

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.  And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.  And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.
(Genesis 1:2-4 ~ KJV)

 

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2016. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Slaying a (small) Dragon

Medieval_KnightI’m smiling to myself as I write tonight.  You might even say I’m a little smug.

What’s that?

No, today wasn’t all that great a day.  I didn’t get all my work done; I even sent someone the wrong product.  I’ll deal with that some other time.  I didn’t make any huge sales, and haven’t found a wonderful vintage guitar which will net me an enormous profit.

So, what is it that’s making me smile?

I’ll tell you. I fixed the kitchen faucet.  Two days ago.

Yep.  Still smiling.

For the last year or more, the kitchen faucet at our house has leaked from the base if you moved the spout while the water was running.  And I, being the handyman that I am, suggested to the Lovely Lady that she not move the spout while the water was running.

Problem solved.

Well, not exactly.  It was a pain–for over a year.  Then last week, it started leaking from the base whether you moved the spout or not.  And I, being the handyman that I am, suggested that a plumber could replace the faucet for us.  The Lovely Lady, long suffering spouse that she is, suggested that she didn’t want a new faucet and wondered aloud if I could effect a repair myself.

A visit to the local handyman center (no, they don’t sell handymen there, they just equip the bumbling ones such as myself) cost me a couple of dollars for a package of rubber o-rings.  The net price of the one I needed was about twenty cents.

Sliding that rubber piece over the lower end of the spout, I put it back into place and tightened the connection.  Turning the water on, I held my breath as I examined the chrome base of the faucet.

Voila!  No leak!

Gingerly, I moved the spout back and forth as the water poured forth.  Still no leak! I’m pretty sure I did a little dance right there in the kitchen.  I was (and am) ecstatic!

No knight errant, killing a dragon and saving the damsel in distress could have been more triumphant than I.  My dragon may have only been a chrome plated faucet and the damsel in distress, my lovely bride of a number of years (I forget how many), but the dragon is slain and the maid is free of her prison!

“How silly!”  I hear the naysayers already muttering.  “Save your celebration for a real conquest.”

I’m going to suggest as politely as I can, that you may feel free to keep your opinions to yourself.

The little things bring immense pleasure.

Our lives are a parade of little things, bombarding us one after another.  We conquer them and we rejoice momentarily, preparing to face the next one.  The Teacher understood this as He told of the woman who had lost one coin and turned her house upside down to find it.  In the middle of the night, the house blazed with light as she swept the floor to retrieve that one little coin.  Then, when she found it, she called her friends and neighbors to celebrate with her.

One coin!  Silly?  Not in the slightest!

Revel in the small successes!  

Delight in the unassuming conquests!

I’m convinced that our lives will never be free of battles to be fought and won—some large, but most small.  All are worthy of our full attention and all are worthy of our delight and celebration, when finished.

I’ve said many times that we shouldn’t sweat the small stuff, meaning simply that we need not fret and worry about the insignificant issues.  That said, we still must deal with them, ticking off the minor victories one after the other.

I hope that you have a little something today that you are smiling to yourself about.  You might even have called your best friend to let them in on it.  Go you!  Celebrate to your heart’s content.

For my part, I think I’ll head home now to run a little water in the kitchen sink again.  Might even swing the spout around a time or two.

If you hear me humming Willie the Giant’s song from Mickey and the Beanstalk as I do it, take no notice.

“I’m a most amazing guy, a most amazing guy am I…Fe Fi Fo Fum, He Hi Ho Hum…”

Celebrate!

 

 

 

Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize that they were the big things.
(Robert Brault~American writer and philosopher)

 

What do you think? If any man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go and search for the one that is straying?
(Matthew 18:12~NASB)

 

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2016. All Rights Reserved.

Two Forward, One Back

The last time he came through my door, he was pushing a walker.  Slowly.  His leg was in a plaster cast and walking was painful.

Today, he wielded a cane.  There was no cast, so I could see the scar running the length of his calf muscle.  He was moving better than the last time I had seen him and I told him so.  His reaction was almost instantaneous.

“Whoa!  Don’t let this cane fool you!  It’s been nothing but two steps forward and one back.  I wouldn’t call that better.”

I admit it.  It wasn’t the kindest thing I could have done.  I’m not always tactful in making my point.

I simply stuck my right hand out in front of my face and lifted the fingers, one at a time.  First one, then two.  I shook them a little, then put one of them back down.  The index finger still stuck out and I waved it around, half playfully.

He got the point.

Making a nearly-grumpy comment about it not being me dealing with the pain, he laughed and headed outside after finishing his transaction, leaving me to contemplate the condition of all humankind.

Two forward.  One back.

It’s still progress.  I did the math.  

One plus one minus one equals one.  One is more than zero, right?

Just to be sure, I even made a little diagram in my head.

The little stick-man is standing on Point A.  He takes two steps, to Point C.  He turns around and takes one step back in the direction he came, to Point B.

He started on Point A and is now standing on Point B.  That’s what we would call going in the right direction.  Positive movement.

Can anyone tell me why it feels so much like being a loser, then?

I always wondered about that.  The red-headed lady who raised me used to spit out the words, as if they left a bitter taste on her tongue.

Well there you go.  Two steps forward and one back!  Again.

I was an almost-bright kid.  Loved number problems.  

If John has one apple and Mary gives him two more, but he has to give one to the playground bully, how many apples did he lose?

Be careful how you answer that question.  You might be surprised at how many people get it wrong.

From a safe distance, the answer is obviously none.  He actually gained an apple from where he started.  From a safe distance, that’s the answer.

Ah.  But what if you had held all of those three apples in your hand?  What if you had been the victim of that muscle-bound thug?

He stole my apple!  Thief!  I had three; now I have only two.

How quickly we claim ownership!  How soon our hearts become fixed upon the thing in our hand.

And the Teacher told them not to hold tightly to the treasure in this transient place where thieves steal,and where bugs eat and rust corrodes.  (Matthew 6:19-20)

But, what of my injured friend?  All he is doing is working toward a goal.  That’s a worthy purpose, is it not?  Surely, that is what we should all be doing?

twostepsIt is.  But, just as in all of life, if we begin to count the steps (either forward or back), we lose sight of the goal and also of how far we’ve come.

It matters not what the goal is—sobriety, fitness, a promotion at work—when we have a setback.  We think of it as a loss, regardless of how far we have come in our pursuit of the prize.

How easy it is to take our eyes from the goal when we experience a defeat.  

Earlier, as I drew in my head the chart of the little man advancing, my mind’s eye was drawn to the action many of us take in our two steps, one step dance.

We face the goal for our two steps forward, but turn back to take the one step back.  Suddenly, all we can see is the proximity of total defeat, the looming shadow of complete failure.  

What if I’m done?  I only made it two steps before.  Maybe I can’t do it again. 

What if all is lost?

Ah, but what if it isn’t? 

You know something?  No one ever achieved his goals by walking backwards.  No one.

Turn around.

The goal is out there.  Up ahead.

There is nothing behind us we’re headed for.  Nothing.

Up ahead—it’s all up ahead.

And the Teacher told them they would have troubles as long as they were in the world.  

Not to worry though.  I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)

He’s got this.  He’s already done the math.  He’s already lost the apple to the playground bully.  And still, He finished—victorious.

Keep moving forward.

Yeah, two steps forward and one back will still get you exactly where you need to go.

In time.

 

 

 

Hold everything in your hands lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers open.
(Corrie Ten Boom ~ Dutch Holocaust survivor ~ 1892-1983)

 

We are kept from our goals, not by obstacles, but by a clear path to a lesser goal.
(Robert Brault ~ American writer)

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2015. All Rights Reserved.