Shield

But You, O LORD, are a shield about me,
My glory, and the One who lifts my head. 

Perils, shouts of despair and hopelessness, shame, enemies, failures, temptations, fears, regrets, trials.  Not all the time and not all at once, but these are common struggles for us all.  One of the surest places in prayer I ever come to is the declaration that God is my shield, He lifts my head and He stands between me and my enemies. 

Ultimately, it is in Christ that we see this expressed, He bore our sorrows and the shame for our sins before His Father so that we might have access to pray and find acceptance with a holy God. 

Psalms 3, 84, 91

Every Tear

You have taken account of my wanderings;
Put my tears in Your bottle
Are they not in Your book? 

Every tear is kept and marked down.  Not a trial or tribulation is missed. 

I think it is easy to miss that God’s omniscience is not a divine expression of scrapbooking.  We aren’t comforted by the fact that God is all knowing or compulsive enough to keep track of everything, but that He thinks fondly enough of us to take note of our every trial and every tear.  It is great reminder that we can confidently draw near to Him, casting our burdens and anxieties on Him because He truly does care for us, on intimate level.

Psalm 56:8

Everything

Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD! 

Psalms are songs, no doubt, and most if not all, were put to music, but they are also instruction.  They call us to praise God in all aspects of our lives, sadness, anger, joy, triumph, lament, dedication.  But we aren’t all musicians that get to play in the great assembly of saints, and so Psalms ends with the instruction that everything that has breath is to praise God. Everything.

Psalm 150

I am exciting to be taking part in this group installation.  There is always a gap between what I visualize a project to look like and how it comes out, but this is even more exciting because it is such a grand scale, other artists with great visions and talents, and hearing their ideas but waiting to see it take shape and come together and how they interact.  The gallery space is being prepped and it looks awesome.  It has it’s own look and I am already amazed.

Below is an image developed for a stencil I made for one of my contributions, excited again to see how things come together and to move away from how I have done things before, open up for input while a project is in process and just have a great time laughing and working and moving pianos and hanging ropes and drawing with ash.  And that was just day one for me! 

In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
Yes he still remains

The Simon & Garfunkel song, “The Boxer” always reminds me of a good friend of mine.  In every verse there is memory of him or his story.  We were together in Sept ‘01, watching the first live broadcast of SNL after the 9/11 attacks when Paul Simon sang this song after Giuliani’s opening monologue.  It seemed fitting then of the resolve during troubled times for NYC and as I reflect on my dear friend and his past and recent struggles in this troubled economy I find myself seeing him as that unwavering, hard headed boxer, being pushed by cold winds and struck by heavy blows and still standing and still remaining.

I doubt he feels heroic.  Most likely he only feels tragically “trapped.” All he can do is stand and take it, what else is there?  And certainly part of that is true.  Often in life we feel like we are fighters, not winners really, just fighters.  We are just too thick to quit, so we fight.  Life pushes us into a corner and the only way out it seems is to keep at it, but our arms get heavy, our vision weak and there is nothing to do but just take it until you get that second wind, until you find that strength or until you hear the bell sound.

And I get that, and realize the frustration of just reminding yourself of platitudes, but the biggest part of me, the truest part of me has to remember we aren’t called fighters or even winners, but MORE than winners, by a God who took on the blackest, darkest hour and heard the count to ten and in an incredible reversal, to which there is no earthly parallel, He rose and conquered our worst enemies, our very fears and made a way for His grace to reach us where we even oppose ourselves.

There is no denial of our pain; of our trials, of our suffering, though we are often reluctant to call it that knowing as we do the harder life of others in this world.  But we do suffer and we do lose heart after we receive blow after blow.  And there comes a time when we all want to quit or do quit.  Or we can hang on in stubbornness and not know what else to do.

And I am not suggesting my friend has failed to remember the promises of our great Savior or that he is deficient in crying out to God, I just have felt the need to be there for him and acknowledge that he is not crazy, he is not whining, and his complaint is just and to also encourage him, to “put heart into” him, to “strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble” that he not lose heart. 

This piece was made for him, just trying to show in a tangible way the prayers and thoughts that have been with him.

There is no solution presented in it, just a heartfelt acknowledgement of suffering and stubbornness and of the wounds we carry with us.

It was around 1986, and he spoke with conviction, thick glasses and cool dreads. He danced to music as his voiceover explained his dancing was like an act of worship, though without using that word.  It concluded with him stating “Some sing, some pray, I dance.”  And then the Levi’s logo faded up as the picture faded to black. 

I of course wasn’t moved to go buy a pair of Levi’s, even though almost 25 years later I still remember the commercial (and somehow still think of Levi’s as the best jeans).  But of the idea that dancing was like a prayer, an act of devotion, I remember being intrigued but never really experiencing that in my own life.   

I think of my frustration through my own waywardness and hearing Rich Mullins sing a song and wondering if it was possible to know God like that, to really enjoy that incredible blend of joyful creativity in response to the Creator who wasn’t the frowning and grey stoic I had come to fear He was.  I had my doubts.

But as I have started to explore making art and writing I have come to enjoy art as devotion. Making art as a response to God, making art to work through His moving in my life and my faltering movements towards Him.  And in it, looking to bless others, though I am not sure how much that happens. 

In making pieces, at least for now, the ideas are coming from my own interactions and reflections on scripture, the struggles in my own life and how I see God resolving issues, though never along my preconceived path.  The processes often involve the meditating and ruminating on some concept, theme or portion of scripture that seems pertinent. 

I find myself echoing statements I have heard artists make about being surprised by what they have created, or how the materials led them in a direction they hadn’t planned.  I have experienced that and was amazed at how you can start with an idea, a vision and by working at something, a solution or direction presents itself because of the materials or process used.  And I have seen how I have already grown in my projects, where before I was too literal, or forcing something, more concerned with “being an artist” than making art. 

But just as important as how the content develops, is how I find myself going about the projects, mindful of patience and how I am exploring and not attempting perfection.  Learning to not be bound by the mental image in my head and literally trying to reproduce it in one attempt. No longer rushing through to finish, but looking to enjoy the development of a concept, and working on it as well. 

Outside of the projects, I am seeking to live in balance, to not forgo my duties around the house or to not leave off interacting with and enjoying my wife’s company. 

So I find that art making is a exercise were I learn balance, learn patience, interact with and reflect on God’s word and look for His leading and respond to Him with my humble little creative acts, as I look for His handiwork in my life and try to be teachable.

This piece, “84”, is my first attempt at collage, assemblage and art making.  I am not fond of it really, but it was the beginning and if nothing else it is a mile marker on my journey.  It is a pictorial representation of psalm 84, one of my favorite psalms.  I didn’t really explore any of the ideas or concepts that I find so salient in the psalm nor why, so it is static, but there it is.