I took an art class in Sedona, Arizona on journaling and watercolor sketches.  I loved this class.  I actually knew from the moment I read about the class that it would be something I would love.  One of the exercises given to us by the teacher was to write a brief response to each of the colors she gave us.  We were not to spend a lot of time thinking about each color, but rather write what feeling or expression or thought that came to our mind immediately about that color.  You might try it just for fun and see what pops in your mind.  I’ll share what I wrote with you….

WHITE….is the color of clouds….space.

YELLOW….is the color of sunflowers….happy.

ORANGE…is the color of sunrise…new life, a gift you can’t hold on to.

PINK….is the color of my granddaughter….exuberance.  A different shade of pink…. the color of Pepto Bismol…nausiating.

RED…is the color of my kitchen stove hood…..out of the box, daring.   The color of passion.

PURPLE…is the color of a new dress I love….sassy.  The color can be great or ugly.

PALE GREEN….is the color of soap that smells good, soothing.

GREEN…is the color outside my back window….new life for nature, birth.

PALE BLUE ….is the color of sky….open, freedom, possibility.

BLUE….is the color of ocean….beyond the horizon, unending, beyond what we know or see, mystery, love.

BROWN…is a boring color to me.   It is a color my Mom always wore, and she was NOT boring!

GRAY….is the color of old people’s hair, or gloomy days.

BLACK…is the color of darkness.  It can be striking and beautiful, a contrast, depth, unknown, fearful.

This is a sketch I did in a journal of the colors expressing God’s creation.  I wish I had done it on unlined paper, but I still love the feel of these colors being born through the breath of God!

nk

Callie’s Birthday is July 14 and she is five years old.  We celebrated early one night last week at our home with Birthday cake and song.  The next night as we sat down for dinner, she wanted us all to sing “Happy Birthday” to her again.  Her Mom, Susan, said, ” Not now, but after the blessing we will sing.” Susan then asked who would like to give the blessing.  Callie immediately shouted, “ME!”

She likes to sing “Johnny Appleseed” for the blessing and her little brother, Travis, age 2, sings along with her.  He knows every word, but can’t quite keep up with her exuberant speed, so there is a bit of melody and mumbling coming from his end of the table as they sing the blessing together.

This particular time Callie changes the words up a little.  “Oh the Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need….the sun, and rain, and the Birthday cake….”.  At this point Travis yells “NO!  THAT’S NOT RIGHT!”  She does not miss a beat, and keeps on singing, inserting the word “birthday” every chance she gets….”the Birthday Lord is good to me!”  Every time she inserts the word “birthday” Travis again yells, “NO!”  Every one of us around the table tries our best to keep a straight face. (It reminded me of the movie “Christmas Vacation” when Granny was asked to say the blessing and began, “I pledge allegiance to the flag…”).  I must admit I peeked during all of this to see how my daughter was reacting.  She kept her eyes closed and her hands reverently folded in prayer, a gentle, growing smile on her face.  Then at the loud “AMEN!”, Susan looked up at me with a big smile, a knowing glance, and not a word.  We all proceeded to sing “Happy Birthday” to Callie.

Some thoughts to ponder…..

What is most important about prayer….the words we say?, the attitude in which we pray?, being willing and unafraid to do it?

How quickly do we react to judge the religious expression of others?  What is acceptable in God’s sight?

How would God be reacting to this prayer…..wanting to teach how to pray?, thinking someone really gets it about the joy of BIRTH days?, smiling at the whole dinner scene?, laughing out loud?

Remembering the words of Jesus…”Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.” (Luke 18: 15-17).   How can you and I become more like children?

nk

My daughter and her young children are visiting in our home this week and as I watched her braid her daughter’s hair this morning I remembered something I had written when my daughter was a little girl…..

“Moments Relived”

I sat on the bed, brushing her long, light brown hair, my precious grandmother.  How she loved to have her hair brushed and how I loved doing that.  Hair that went all the way down one’s back was a novelty to me as a young girl.  As I brushed and braided, and unbraided, combed, and brushed again, I listened to Grandma tell story after story of growing up on the farm….the mules pulling the plow, her dog Fido, and her big brother Ed, whom she loved dearly.  I never tired of hearing the story, and the sound of her voice making it come alive.

I sat on the bed and brushed her short, dark hair, my precious mother.  It came out in clumps in my hands….something she couldn’t bear to do alone….a moment that desperately needed to be shared.  What would she think when she looked into the mirror?  I knew Mama was still beautiful, but would she know that?  Would the chemotherapy kill cancer cells like it killed her hair?  It’s so hard to understand a medicine that brings some sort of death to prevent another death!  Will I ever brush her hair again?

I sat on the bed and brushed her hair, my precious child.  She loved to have her hair braided into French braids.  I wonder why?  Was it because she looked so cute in those braids?  Or was it because her Grandma used to fix it that way?  I wonder what stories Mama used to tell her as she spent time brushing and braiding, unbraiding and brushing.  I’m glad Mama taught me how to do French braids before she died. I try, but my fingers just aren’t as quick and nimble with it all.  I keep at it though, with confidence and a smile, and a story or two.  How the braids turn out isn’t what is most important!

nk