Tip of My Iceberg

I’m not very artistic. Painting has never been my forte. Apart from turning out truly inspirational finger paintings when I was little, I don’t believe anything I’ve ever attempted to portray with a brush has even been recognizable.

My dear husband is equally not gifted. Possibly even more not gifted than me.

Yet we willingly joined a group of friends to be a part of an evening of painting and conversation, food and fun, as we were led to paint pictures of hydrangeas.

Yup, we all painted posies. The same posies, to be precise. An activity we had actually chosen to do as a group.

For fun.

This is a relatively new form of entertainment in our area. Where people who have little to no artistic skills learn how to paint a predetermined picture. A guided experience.

A lesson in applied humor.

There were six couples, and we painted the same picture as mirror images so it would look like one big picture. We were led through the process of how to apply the paint, the use of different brushes and composition.

Even though we all painted the same flowers, none of them looked the same. Even though we each followed the same teacher, none of ours looked just like hers. Even though we were together, we all had different experiences in following the process.

There were definite similarities. Same flowers, same colors. But what was stunning was how each of us interpreted that process.

I’m not going to lie. In the beginning, the guys weren’t thrilled about this activity. Food, drink and trying to please wives were huge motivators. But to their credit, they were champions of positive thinking and seeing the fun in this.

Each painting, though admittedly amateur, was beautiful. Because each was unique. Wonderfully different. With the same model, it was our personalities, our unique parts, that influenced the way we painted. 

Those must have been the quirky parts.

Different. Not bad or lacking. Not wrong or less valuable.

Special in their differences.

Like us.

Each of us is so wonderfully different. Special in how we’re not the same. Though our desires are often similar–being known, being loved, belonging, making our mark on the world, security–the way it works out never looks  like anyone else.

I often get put out by others who are different from me. Too many times I think my life would be easier if more people thought like I did.

The truth is that life would be boring. Too vanilla. The fun is in the difference. The fact that I don’t know what to expect from others all the time. That diversity makes for richness in life experiences.

And it’s all because God made each of us with passion and intention. Specifically.

King David knew what that meant. His Psalms are full of that knowledge.

“I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”  Psalm 139:14

We’re all made with that same lavish love, for a greater purpose than we can imagine. Created in His image. Beautifully.

And much like those paintings, it’s His unique brush strokes in our stories that makes us remarkable.