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I sit in the bathtub and try not to think.

Which means I think about everything that I don’t want to think about.

I think about

the late hour of the morning when we all woke up

and the fighting that ensued seconds later.

I think about

the groaning over chores and school

and the rising anger in my mama/teacher self.

“Gentle,” I heard the whisper earlier that day.

I think about the tears (mine were on the inside)

and the straw on the camel’s back when we realized that the toddler had consumed a tin of mints

while we were all breaking down.

I thought about the yelling (mine, and not on the inside)

and hours later when we got locked out of the house

and there was a boy preparing to throw up in the back seat.

“Gentle,” I heard the call as I continued head long in the opposite direction.

I think about the days my mom messed up

and how often the next day a present showed up on the kitchen table.

She was speaking her love language even though it left me wanting at the time.

How can I make it up to them, I wonder?

But the warm water and solitude

pull me under to a temporary state of semi-sleep

and I decide that’s better than remembering

what I don’t want to remember.

Finally I reach for a towel with my wrinkled fingertips and

attempt to get out of the bath, without a flood of thoughts.

But we know how that went already.

Since the flood won’t stop, I pour my day out to my husband.

Then I open my devotional and read the first line,

“IT’S ALL RIGHT TO BE HUMAN…” (it was written in all caps on the page itself)

My foggy heart grasps at those words.

It is?  Can it really be okay that I messed up today?

And then I recall an echo of my pastor from a few days ago

when he said “Remember, you’re human.”

I hold this idea tentatively, the possibility that my mistakes of the day

might not be a reason for such condemnation.

I look up a verse from the devotional.

“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest in me..I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Again the possibility that my weakness, rather than being a reason to put on shame, is actually for the purpose of sending me and all the kids to Christ who is perfect, who is patient, who is constant and never-changes, who is slow to anger, who is love.

A few years ago I began to realize that I didn’t need to measure my idea of perfect parents side by side to my actual parents and try to define the size of the gap.  Instead I began to see that my mom and dad were never supposed to be perfect because they were human. I even allowed that those holes were probably purposefully left there so that I couldn’t experience perfect love from anyone but my (heavenly) Father. A rather astounding idea after years of playing, “what if..” with my childhood, assuming that my kids would inevitably play the same game and enter counseling sometime in their life (still a prime possibility).

And now I know the gift my kids need, not a box to place on the kitchen table, but for their hearts.  They need the arrow that my weakness and their weakness both point to-they need the gift of the Lord.  I’ll tell them, “I’m going to love you more than I can ever put into words, you are my treasures. But I will always make mistakes.  The Lord, however, loves you perfectly, patiently, gently, and his love will never change, he will always  be constant.  When I let you down, or a friend, or the world, or when you let yourself down, look to the Lord, rather than lingering on the weakness of others (and yourself).  In my weakness, the Lord is made strong.”

I sit with these truths for several minutes before I read the rest of the verses from the day’s devotional.

“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment…instead it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.”(1 peter 3:3)

So the earlier whispers were also true. God is reminding me of His grace and also still leading me toward transformation.

But if I can walk in His grace rather than the lie of condemnation I can also believe in His power to change me daily. Sometimes the change comes from falling flat on my face.

There is a mystery.  We are completely forgiven (it only needed to done once through Christ’s blood) and yet we’re still being made into His image in the midst of grumpy kids and our own sinful hearts day by day.

A mystery that could also be called, a gift.

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Flipping through the pages of Drawing Lab, the corner of page 81 caught my eye, a little box with the suggestion to illustrate a quote from a child. Words arrive in such interesting ways when you have a myriad of ages in the house.

“My eyes are snowing Mommy,” my daughter exclaimed as the snow passed over our faces.  ”You’re eyes are snowing too!”

I’ve been thinking lately about my limitations.  Only small bits of time or energy leftover from full-time mamahood, no money to lend toward a trip out of the ordinary, no particular doors beckoning for me to walk through.

But the blank page page in front of me?

The blank page is unlimited.

Reader, maybe what you do have, is actually, limitless.

 

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“Honey, I’m so glad that I can create something and enjoy it!” I flop down next to him on the couch with my painting.

He continues reading his book.

“Not because I think the outcome is so great,” I explain quickly, “but because I can enjoy the process and not be so worried that it’s not going to come out right.”

He marks his page and looks up.  He doesn’t have to say anything, because I know he knows exactly what my frustration has looked like, up close and ugly.

“Don’t you remember trying to paint pottery with me one time and I got so angry with myself because I couldn’t get it just right?  Or scrapbooking? Or, well, you know it’s been a problem for a long time.”

He agrees with me, gives me the smile that tells me he really has been listening, and heads back to his book.

But I still linger on the miracle that I can sit down and work on something creative and not kill the whole endeavor with my self-doubt and perfectionism.

Talk about freedom to play and explore!

If I only I had the miracle of a lot more free time, but I digress…

Two arts books are making me very happy right now and I’d like them to make you happy too, so let me tell you about them.

Drawing Lab: 52 Creative Exercises to  Make Drawing Fun

First of all, this is a well-designed book, which is an inspiration in and of itself.  It has a great cover, the layout of each page is sharp and appealing, and the examples of the projects make me want to do art! Also the materials and directions are clear and easy to follow with the eye (and eventually the hand).  This is a user-friendly book. It’s also user friendly because the author wants to free you of the exact issues I just mentioned above, perfectionism and self-doubt.  These aren’t “the right way” exercises, these are “come on in, get your coffee, and start your fun” exercises.

Several times I’ve taken this book with me to a coffee shop (along with some pencils, pens and watercolors) and enjoyed an hour and half of play (and therapy, because the process of art is very therapeutic).  I’ve also added in a husband or a child, who have done the art exercise with me.

Here’s some of the art that has arisen from this book, at our house:

Water Paper Paint: Exploring Creativity with Watercolor and Mixed Media

Thanks to my very generous sister-in-law (that’s you Robin), I got another book in this series last weekend. Water, Paper, Paint: Exploring Creativity with Watercolor and Mixed Media is also a feel good art book.  No, I mean it literally feels good in your hands, the cover feels just like watercolor paper.  Like it’s sister book, it’s filled with art that makes me itch to get a pen and paintbrush in my hand.  And just from flipping through the book I now know that there is a process with special tape to prevent wrinkling and bowing of paper (something that’s been driving my crazy since falling for watercolors).  I also know now that salt on wet watercolors creates texture, something I’d wondered about when I saw an artist do that on a video a while back.

I will say that the directions in this book look more involved then Drawing Lab, but then again it might have to do with the process being explored.  I haven’t decided if I can do as much “take and go” with this book, but I know that it is going to take me further into the world of watercolor, and that makes me very happy.  This would be a good follow up book to Drawing Lab if you have the itch to keep going.

Here are two exercises my 9 year old daughter and I tried out together.

This is the first exercise in the book, an experiment of working wet watercolors onto a still wet watercolor surface, trying out similar and contrasting hues.  Also, it was fun.

Here’s my daughter’s:

In this next exercise we tried many different size brushes, working with a range of hues.

Mine,

 

Hers,

I’ve got my eye on Art Lab for Kids by Susan Schwake, which releases in early February. The older kids have adapted well to the other books even though the target audience is not children, but my six year old often gets frustrated by some of the abstract ideas. Hoping this will make a third treasure in my collection.

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From Wendell Berry’s Hannah Coulter

“I began to know my story then.  Like everybody’s it was going to be the story of living in the absence of the dead.  What is the thread that holds it all together?  Grief, I thought for a while.  And grief is there sure enough, just about all the way through…But grief is not a force and has no power to hold.  You can only bear it.  Love is what carries you, for it is always there, even in the dark, or most in the dark, but shining out like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery.”

 

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