These adjectives would describe my heart lately. It is like I have been waiting to move, to do, to busy myself. But not just busy myself with the mundane or the every day…rather to busy myself, my heart with art. My blogging friend, Emily, over at Chatting At The Sky has written a lot about art this past month. But as much as I have loved reading her stuff, I have been very bothered. Not by her writing, but by my lack of art right now. My art is the Art of Worship through Drama and Speaking. I am delighted beyond words to have found a place to serve my God that I know He delights in and is a total blast for me to do. I love to create and find art that we can use on a Sunday morning to bring glory and honor to the King of Kings.
But I have been blank…
I have had a bad case of writers block.
I have had a bad case of “I can’t find anything out there in the Worship Arts community that fits this sermon. Nothing!”
So I have put myself to work in other areas of “art” that I love, hoping to forget the elephant in the room, in my heart. I have painted my man’s entire store. I do love to paint. Painting a dirty wall a new hue with clean lines is a good thing that brings me such pleasure. I have fed my family. I have painted my room and my son’s room. I have played in the snow. I have held the cutest little bunny for days on end. I have sat with a friend while she waited for her husband undergoing a very intense, scary surgery. I have put up Christmas decor and taken it down. I have entertained guests and I have been the guest. I have done it all… all the while waiting for my art.
In reality, I am not waiting for my light bulb to light up with an incredible idea. I am waiting. for. God. to. speak….
But when God starts speaking life into my heart, I am able to see the canvas as He would like it painted. This is the thing, it may be the art that I love to do, but He is the real artist. I am just His tool, His canvas, His brush. Without Him there is no Art. Without Him I am just a clanging symbol. I am just a gallon of paint waiting to be used. I will sit on a shelf until He is ready to express Himself through me. So I wait…
But when it is time…
But when it is time, I come alive! It starts with a flicker of life in my mind.
It is a few lines scratched in a note pad.
It starts to take shape on a blank computer screen covered in my little boy’s finger prints where backspace and delete are on a continual cycle.
It becomes sloppy practice sessions and rehearsals where lines, feelings, drama, and staging are perfected.
Then, as the lights come up Sunday morning on the stage left, it becomes the tool He wants for that moment.
For His people.
For the lost and the wounded.
For His glory.
This is my Art.
“How great Though Art!”