[notice] A fortnightly column by Anna Heydenrych[/notice]
When last did you draw a picture for Jesus? I enjoy painting and drawing so I recently signed up for an art class and attended the first session this week. The last time that I did anything of the sort was while living in London in my early 20s (a story in its own, lets just say that I was under the impression that one drew bowls of oranges and such in life drawing class).
But back to the present, I thoroughly enjoyed the three hours that I spent this week painting a picture. However, this is not why I posed my initial question. I signed up for the art class and started my piece of art for myself, because I enjoy it. Yes, I enjoy using a gift that God has given me, and I enjoy that I am blessed enough to be able to spend three hours of my week doing something I love. But my picture is for me; it will go up on my wall at home.
I do, however, remember a time once when I drew a picture for Jesus. I was five years old. My medium: koki pen. My subject: Jesus and the angels. My inspiration: a longing to please my Father and make him proud. I have a very vivid memory of that day. Once I had completed my drawing, I went outside to present it to Jesus, who I knew to live in heaven. I stood in the front yard, and with all the strength I could muster, I threw my artwork into the air. I believed that it would be swept up into the sky and Jesus would receive it in heaven. Well, I tried this method of delivery a few times, and then went inside to tell my mom about it and ask her why Jesus had not taken my picture. I cannot remember exactly what she said. It was something along the lines that Jesus had seen me in the front yard attempting to send my picture to heaven, and even though it did not float up into the sky as I thought it would, I had made him happy, and that was what mattered. I felt assured, and pleased to be able to keep my copy of the artwork and to please Jesus at the same time.
As an adult looking back at this childlike display of faith, I have no doubt that I did please Jesus that day. My motive was pure. My offering was simple yet from my heart. The strength of my faith was displayed not only by my belief in the miraculous, but in my abandonment to His ways and not my own. When the episode did not play out the way that I had imagined it would, I was unshaken, my assurance intact.
So when last did you draw a picture for Jesus?