Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees takes off his shoes.
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries
And daub their natural faces unaware
More and more from the first similitude.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
It wasn’t long ago that my days were filled with art made by children spanning many ages and backgrounds.
My classroom was intended for the joy of exploration, experimentation, and confidence-building.
Instruction was based on my understanding that it’s more important for students to share something about themselves through their art
than to make something “realistic”.
It’s an idea sparked by the first few verses of the creation story found in Genesis.
A lifetime of making art has given me a small peek into the heart of the Genesis God.
I have grown to realize that He is an illustrator,
collaging
time and science, events, and nature, people, words, lives,
— LIFE —
into a mixed-media gallery revealing the
What, When, Where, Why, How, and Who He is.
His creation is not meant as performance but REVELATION.
The first brushstroke of God’s voice sang “Let there be light!”
He addresses a deep, empty darkness
Without form,
And void.
“Form” is from a root word meaning to lie in waste or confusion;
“Void” includes the idea of undistinguishable ruin.
These are words that feel deeper than surface appearance, they are emotional words.
Where in the universe, in God’s Kingdom of perfect love, would such emotion be found?
The Bible pieces together a story of war in heaven,
its instigator, a glorious beloved leader, cast out with his fellow rebels,
Gathered in turmoil
Somewhere in God’s created spaces,
Expecting His judgement,
Waiting in a condition of confusion
and undistinguishable ruin.
But God is not what the darkness accuses, He is the opposite.
Light contrasts darkness.
He puts into motion the story of who He is.
A picture worth uncountable words.
He calls for enlightenment.
From my upstairs window, I look into the top of wintering trees.
Tiny red-tinted buds have formed at the tips of once-bare twigs.
I realize I am witnessing renewal.
Light separated from darkness.
Art that revels the Artist.
Earth crammed with heaven!
Every common bush afire with God.
I am barefoot and in awe.
I’m heading up to the studio to work on a painting I started the end of last week.
I wonder what has been gathered from the moments I have spent viewing holy fire in the common?
I wonder what I’ve missed by looking for blackberries?
