Some years ago, before I ministered through writing and art, I had some slightly darker days — days where I couldn’t get up from bed because of the deep sadness in my heart, days where absolutely nothing piqued my interest.
It was on one of those days the thought of painting made me sit up straight. I voiced the idea to my father who was eagerly waiting for me to smile again. He immediately volunteered to drive me to the nearest art store to purchase some paint. On reaching there, I picked up a box of watercolours, a palette, and a brush even though I had no idea what I wanted to paint. My parents were hopeful and thrilled that I had finally mustered up the energy to leave the bed, my room, and the house.
On reaching home, I set out to work right away. I hadn’t painted in a while, so I was rusty. After some time, I realized the hues I was mixing were the same as my mood — negative, unhappy, and hopeless. I remember the feeling as each colour ignited the blank canvas. I didn’t feel better as I thought I would. I looked at what I had done and realized how ugly it looked. I felt more miserable than when I had started. I threw my brush aside and went back to sleep. I did not want to paint anymore. My father sighed in sadness. Those weren’t the best days. But it got better. I got better. I recovered. Jesus put joy, hope and peace back in my heart.
But it wasn’t until a year later, I discovered the canvas I attempted to paint tucked away in a corner while I was cleaning up my room. I opened it up expecting a half blank canvas, but instead, I found it completed and coloured in. I stared in disbelief at the canvas I thought was thrown aside and incomplete. Then it dawned on me — my father had finished up the canvas I couldn’t complete that day. Tears came to my eyes as I kept staring at the completed canvas. There was a world of difference between my strokes and my father’s intentional strokes. My father’s side looked way better.
As I stood there with all those flashbacks and memories, I had a revelation from Heaven. This is exactly what Jesus wants of me. He wants me to surrender the canvas of my life to Him when it’s too hard to do it on my own. When I cannot figure out the next stroke or colour I should choose, my Father in Heaven volunteers to do it for me. He will finish the work I never had the capability to even start. If only I had surrendered the brush, if I had relinquished control and let Him paint, my life would have looked so beautiful. But here I am, learning only years later what a wonderful artist Jesus is after completely messing up my life.
Friend, if you think you have made a mess out of your life, surrender your canvas. Your Father will finish the painting you couldn’t. He will write your story, and the colours will be beautiful. My dark days were followed by a beautiful display of colour I could never have imagined or achieved on my own. Some days will be filled with darker hues and some days will be brighter, but the Father knows exactly what colour needs to be thrown in to make a beautiful painting. Every colour will work together to create something glorious you cannot see at this moment. The completed work will be beautiful, and it will be your Father’s doing. Surrender the brush and the canvas. Let the Artist do what He does best.
Give God the right to direct your life, and as you trust him along the way you’ll find he pulled it off perfectly!
Psalms 37:5 (TPT)
Let the Artist do what He does best in your life. It will be beautiful. -Neeba Abraham: Click To Tweet