Sometimes a simple photo is all it takes to catch a glimpse of God.
“Boys, do you want to make a picture with mommy on the sidewalk?”
It was late Saturday afternoon, and I had seen so many Picasso-like chalk creations on Instagram all week that I felt both intimidated and challenged to try one with my own sons.
So, I went and found our dusty box of chalk and told them all to wait patiently for mommy to set up. Then, I stepped out onto our dirty, neglected front porch and sighed a little. “This won’t work!” I thought. My husband was mowing the lawn and his cord stretched right across my canvas. And even though I swept it off, leaves and dirt kept creeping back in. And the darn blue tape wasn’t sticking right.
But eventually, I called the boys to the porch and watched their eyes light up as they stared at the blank canvas I had created before them. “I’m gonna use purple!” one exclaimed. “I’ve got the blue!” another shouted. They enthusiastically filled in each and every block on the cement canvas, breaking most of the chalk pieces as they went.
And when every piece was filled, they fought to pull up the blue tape and stood and admired their work.
Looking back at photos of their creation this morning, now partially washed away by Monday rain, I caught a glimpse of God – a painter, painting on the canvas of creation.
“You are the future,
the red sky before sunrise
over the fields of time.
You are the cock’s crow when night is done,
you are the dew and the bells of matins,
maiden, stranger, mother, death. You create
yourself in ever-changing shapes
that rise from the stuff of our days—
unsung, unmourned, undescribed,
like a forest we never knew.
You are the deep innerness of all things,
the last word that can never be spoken.
To each of us you reveal yourself differently:
to the ship as coastline, to the shore as a ship.” (Rainer Maria Rilke)
Even sheltering in place, God is there.
Where will you look for God today?⠀
