Acts of God

Wow. I actually had to change the title of this chapter. I had gone into my Picassa to find these photos. They are of a painting I did two years ago. This is huge, about six feet tall on black canvas. The medium is house paint. You may see some words peeking out from the paint. The setting was my church, only it wasn't quite my church yet. God was just setting things up at that point. It was Easter morning and they had set up this huge black screen of canvas and three buckets of paint, tan, violet and white. The worship leader began to read a poem about what Christ meant to me. I wrote words on the canvas with white chalk. The words were really blocking out the face to come, but no one knew that. When the poem was done a beautiful woman began to sing a lovely song about the sacrifice a Christ and I began to actually throw paint at this canvas with my bare hands. I started with the tan paint, then the violet. I did so the face did not really appear until I placed the white paint in the eyes.

People cried. They came up and touch me like I had performed a miracle. Something really did happen, but I could not talk about it. I could not tell them that they had all disappeared. I could not tell them that I had began to feel something else as I stroked the paint onto the canvas with my hands. One friend who was watching said she did see me change my pace and begin to stroke the face. I couldn't tell them I felt something warm reach out through the paint and into my heart and tell me I had finally come home. You would have to know me very well to understand what that meant and why a few weeks later I joined that church. Oh, and I should also mention the painting was done twice at two services and there were several practice pieces. Two were auctioned off as fund raisers for the church and went to a men's seminary and a convent. all were donated by me back to the church.

So here is the post script. Lenten services were held Wednesday night and no, I did not throw paint to make Christ appear for my fellow Christians, but I was sitting with a friends who pointed me to a man who wanted to copy my rendition in stained glass. he wanted a photo of the painting to work from. He understood it would be a challenge and he didn't even understand why he wanted to do it, but he felt moved to do so and wasn't it strange we had wound up sitting together. I told him I would get him the photos. so this morning I went into Picasa and found them , printed them and thought I took them out of the tray and placed this heart in hand into the tray to blog with, but some how they wound up in the blog. Hmmm.

Something tells me my Lord is not done with me and this little project. Well, my heart is in my hand. Ready. I wait.