I'm telling you, that guest post giveaway did not disappoint! Today, I'm excited to share this post from winner, Julia Frey. I hope you love it as much as I do. Welcome, Julia!
My Life As a Painting
One of my most favourite places in the world is The National Gallery in London. I try to make a quick stop there as often as my life allows. Although it contains an astoundingly large collection of European art I am always drawn to the Impressionists. Every time I walk up to that section I get so overcome with emotion that I am sure everyone else can see my visible goosebumps. There is something special about the Impressionists that sets them apart in my mind and in the world of art.
For one thing, the paintings don’t look realistic. Early Impressionists faced criticism not only because the paintings looked blurry, childlike, unskilled and undignified but also because they seemed to be interested in the sort of common, almost mundane subjects that were beneath the attention of traditional painters. Like many others I particularly love their depiction of light: soft, dreamy, and life-giving. But rather than recognizing the incredible beauty of this new style the majority of early onlookers described their work as a BIG MESS.
When at age 14 I first learned about the Impressionist movement, I also learned that to appreciate paintings done in that style, you have to step back, quiet your soul and allow the painting speak to you. From the first time I’d done that I became a committed fan.
|Monet's Impression, sunrise|
Ever so often I feel that my life is very much like a blurry, moody and prosaic impressionist painting, with the only thing that is clear being the Light always present within it. I am often the poor soul standing too close to a Monet in the National Gallery, unable to discern beauty and purpose in the chaos. I am peering impatiently in the present, struggling to work out what is the purpose and meaning of it all while demanding the Artist to explain himself and bring things into focus.
A few years back I was living through time of chaos and uncertainty, one of those wonderful times where what could go wrong, did. The beauty in it all was not easily found. Although in my better moments I could catch glimpses of something special, all too often they ended up buried in the mess.
My family had moved to a new country, the rules of which seemed unfamiliar and harsh. We came as missionaries and even as I type the word I wince because all kinds of misconceptions that are built into it through the centuries of Christendom. Our world is changing which should impact how we do missions - especially in Europe - but we were learning quickly and painfully that not everyone back home was “in sync” with that idea.
To make matters worse, while my husband fit in nicely by a sheer virtue of being a man I was desperately searching for my place. In the end I had to walk away empty-handed.
Disappointment was one ugly word that hung over my life. Frustration and bitterness were starting to fester, mixed in with normal life things like paying rent in one of the world’s most outrageously expensive cities. You might guess why, with the ‘big mess’ my life appeared to be, I doubted everything.
What shook me out of that funk was a quick stop at the National Gallery, an “aha moment” that clarity was not at all what the Impressionist artists set out to achieve. Their goal was to jolt you, make you think and stir you.
All I had to do was to step back from the action, allow my soul to rest quietly with Jesus and suddenly I was able to perceive his faithful and loving hand at work, even in the midst of my mess. I still didn’t see his purpose but I was able to trust him again.
If you are in a similar place, studying your life far too closely in an attempt to figure out what is in front of you, try to remember the cardinal rules of enjoying art:
1. Step away from the painting.
2. Quiet your soul.
3. Allow it to move you.
After all, the meaning of our life is not in the fine details but in the overall impression we leave on the people around us, and in the beauty that the Father draws out from the greatest chaos of our own lives.
Do the details of your life ever distract you from the big picture?