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MY TALENT, A TASTE OF HEAVEN

“Hi, my name is Peggy. And you, you must be Sarah?”

“Sarah-Kate,” my mom interjected. I hated how my mom was so picky with my name, even though I also hated the name Sarah by itself.

Today was my first day of painting class, and I had just been introduced to my art instructor. I was eight years old and enthralled with art, and Mom thought it was about time that I take my talents to a canvas instead of all the numerous walls, lampshades, and clothes I loved beautifying. When I walked into the studio, the smell of turpentine permeated the air. I loved everything, except for her dogs. The dogs were Schnauzers: gray, ugly, barky things that slobbered all over the door, and ruined the ambiance. But all the easels and paintbrushes and pigments were so bright. I can still remember my first painting. In one corner was a big tree. Ms. Peggy made me put blue on one side to create a shadow. I knew about lighting, but I thought blue looked quite a bit unnatural. The sky was a grass green and underneath was a small winding path with bushes that seemed on the verge of overtaking it. I told Ms. Peggy that the sky was the same color as when a tornado was around, even though I had never seen a tornado in my life. I thought she would be impressed with that tidbit of information. I took oil lessons for two years. One of the most valuable lessons I learned is that no one is better than me; we are all individuals and each one of us sees things differently. There were always ways to improve our brush strokes, but becoming like another artist was never the goal of any of us. After class mom would pick me up, and she was always so surprised at the paintings. Everyone was always so amazed, and I didn’t have to do anything to impress them. I was just being myself, and I knew that’s what made my pictures so pretty.

Painting exposed me to the real purpose of my life. Being creative was like being with my best friend; I could be myself, and I didn’t have to improve, or accumulate anything to be of value. It was a way for me to expose myself and unmask the façade. “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” (Pablo Picasso). For me, the dust of daily life was improving what I wanted to be, and not what was given; it was the mask I wore. Life is more and more a search and a struggle to promote myself. “In Satan’s kingdom you are accounted a citizen by doing or not doing. Both achievement and laziness will grant you citizenship as long as you are focused on performing and doing. In this kingdom you wake every morning and think about what must be achieved that day for you to feel good about yourself… Life is a cycle revolving around pride and worthlessness. Life between success and failure is either agitated determination to achieve or conversely fear that what you have attained will be lost. It is a never ending cycle until you die or change kingdoms” (Ebens 2005:31).

MY PURPOSE

“Are we done yet”? I asked. It had been a long morning shopping and I was eager go to home. Finally mom told me that we had just completed our last errand. I ran out of the store onto the sidewalk. The air was crisp and bit sharply at my face. This only made me all the more ready to get to the car that was separated from me by a sea of traffic. I forgot about the cars and big trucks that flew down the thoroughfare in front of me. When my small feet hit the curb of the sidewalk they didn’t stop. Within seconds I heard a horn blowing and my mom gasp. I turned to look back at mom, but before my eyes met hers, they met the shiny chrome bars that lined the grill of a taxicab about a foot away from my face. Then mom grabbed me and pulled me back onto the sidewalk. Afterward mom told me my guardian angel was looking out for me.

When I recall this incident I am amazed. I could have stepped off the curb a few seconds later, or I could have crossed the street a little farther up. “If you feel far away from God the truth is He is never far away from you, You just have to feel your pulse to know that He has not left you” (Ebens 2005:29). It wasn’t long ago that this memory was recalled; previously it had completely left me. But one night while I was lying in bed it flashed through my mind. It’s amazing to me that God would stoop so low as to help a small child safely fall back into a mother’s arms after a near-death experience, untouched by harm. This same God has not left me since the time my small heart started pulsating in my mother’s womb.

God has a purpose for me. It’s crazy to me that God knew on the cross that He could take a lying, self-seeking, insecure young lady and see amazing potential in her. In Ephesians 2:10 Paul writes, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (NASB). This is why I love God so much: because He became just like me so that my character could become a piece of His character. I think that’s why God misses me so much when I am not with Him, because He is missing an essential part of Himself. And I guess the reason I never feel content with being under Satan’s rule is that I am not fulfilling my purpose: to be a daughter of God. When Picasso said that the purpose of art was washing the dust of daily life off our souls, Picasso knew a characteristic of God, and that was to wash the dust of daily life off each one of our souls so that we wouldn’t have to worry about improving ourselves, because if we believe in Christ we are redeemed. One of the definitions of the word redemption is the conversion of paper money into bullion or specie. When I hear that definition I think of me. I have been converted, from something with really no inherent value to something that is precious and doesn’t need anything else to improve its value.

BEING WITH MY BEST FRIEND

I sat timidly on the bus, it was my junior year and I was attending a new school, the weekend activity that was planned was a camping trip at a nearby lake. I quietly watched as girl after girl filed on to the bus, they were all laughing and chatting with their friends. Some girls were short, some were tall; some had brown hair, while others had blonde, like Melody. Melody walked onto the bus and immediately saw me sitting all alone; she came and sat down right beside me. One of the first things I learned about Melody is that she had a genuine interest in me. From the second she sat down beside me I don’t think her jaw stopped moving. From that moment on Melody had a special place in my heart; she was the first person that made me feel like a necessary part of my new school.

Sometimes people ask me how I know that God loves me. For me it is so simple: I look at my good friends like Melody and I see the character of God. When I was with Melody I felt happy, I think it was because she really did treat me like I had a purpose. And so does God. God knows what will make me happy, what will put my mind at rest. The happiness that God has given me is more comforting and real than anything else I’ve experienced. This happiness is really a sense of peace in knowing who I am as an individual. God loved me so much that He became just like me. 2000 years ago while Jesus walked the earth He thought of me, He knew the trials I would face. Jesus begged with God to have mercy on me, because I had not yet been rescued from Satan’s grasp. Sometimes I wonder what sort of trials I will never have to encounter because Jesus endured them for me. This is why I call Jesus my best friend, and this is why I love to be with him. 1 John 4:19 says, “ We love him, because he first loved us” (KJV).

Come and see, look on this mystery

The Lord of the Universe, nailed to a tree

Christ our God, spilling His Holy Blood

Bowing in anguish, His sacred head

Sing to Jesus, Lord of our shame

Lord of sinful hearts, He is our great Redeemer

Sing to Jesus, Honor His name

Sing of his faithfulness, pouring His life out onto death (Ortega 2002).

A Closing Note

“Dear Heavenly Father, I praise You for knowing me and preparing me from the foundations of the world. I don’t fully understand that, but I do know I want to be Your divine masterpiece. I want to be all that You created me to be. I know that the good work You have called me to do can only come from who I am in Christ. Forgive me for the times I have let others determine who I am and for the times I have tried to make others become what I wanted them to be.

I renounce the lies of Satan that would compare me with others who are more gifted than I am. I refuse to believe the lies that say success is determined by the standards of this world. I renounce the lie that my success is found in my performance. I announce the truth that my success is found in being who you created me to be and doing what you called me to do. Forgive me for not taking the risk of stepping out of faith according to what I know to be true. I commit myself to making full use of the gifts, talents and other life endowments that you have entrusted to me. In Jesus’ precious name I pray. Amen (Anderson 2001:258). This is my prayer to you Jesus; I want to thank you for making me unique, and redeeming me so that my endowments are now a necessary part of who You are and who I am. I know I am of worth because You, the King of the entire world, has seen so much potential in me that you want to partner up with me so that we can accomplish your purpose for my life together.