Hey Reader!

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I hope this finds you well on this lovely Thursday!

Tuesday's Lenten painting really felt nostalgic to me.

“You prepare a feast before me in plain sight of my enemies” (Psalm 23:5a).

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I envisioned this table I painted in a vineyard in southern France. I want to sit at this table with the red chairs, don’t you?

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This verse was so precious to me when we lived in France. During our foray there, we struggled on our team, and often I felt truly unseen and sometimes maligned. During those times, I would imagine a long table full of food and joy, and I’d preach the gospel to myself, that God gives us good gifts out of his glorious sacrifice.

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And he sets tables while we suffer. He brings a feast when we feel deprived. He feeds us when we’re hungry for affirmation or relationship or validation. What a sweet God we serve, friends!

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You can watch me paint daily for Lent here. ​

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There has been a rebirth in my yard this year. Here's a little peek into its beauty!

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Way:

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(NOTE: this article came from my new Substack account. If you'd like this kind of long form essay content on a weekly basis, you can subscribe here).

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Look at the Nots

“We are experiencing trouble on every side,but are not crushed; we are perplexed,but not driven to despair; we are persecuted, but not abandoned;we are knocked down,but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9).

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I painted this for Lent today. I’m a few days ahead (that’s the kind of person I am—I like to meet deadlines early). Initially I was going to make the background black to make the contrast between the difficult words of Paul and the spring motif. But then I couldn’t help myself. I am enamored by spring. Every day I go outside and check my garden, praying for little bits of green to poke their heads to the sky.

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Today? I found a baby fig, and my heart soared.

The verse above is true. In the past year or so, I have said out loud, “This is too much.” So often I look at the negative words like trouble, crushed, perplexed, persecuted, knocked down, and I stay there in the dark. But look at the other NOT phrases: not crushed, not driven to despair, not abandoned, not destroyed. There is hope in those phrases, light even.

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When others malign you and assign negative motivations to you, you are not crushed. You may feel crushed temporarily, but God’s great springtime resurrection power turns that crushing feeling into grit and strength to endure the next difficult spoken or written word.

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When trials pile upon themselves, and you wonder if you’ll ever see light in the tunnel of stress, remember despair does not have the final word. New life always spring forth from decay—it’s the way of the garden. Compost makes the best flowers, after all. We may feel despairing, but the truth is perplexity means we are asking questions of God. We are interacting with him. And in that intersection of our need and God’s listening heart, we are heard. And hope returns. (Sometimes it takes a long time, though. Hang in there!)

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Persecution is normative (or should be) in the Christian life. We should expect it. And we can rejoice when it comes because it proves the very Spirit of God rests in us. Wow! So when Paul says the persecuted are not abandoned, he’s pointing to this reality. God has given us himself. He pitches his tent within us. When others harm us, speak evil against us, we may be forsaken by others (and even by church leaders), but God will never, ever, ever leave us. We are not orphans. We are his children, knitted into the fabric of the family of God.

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Have you felt knocked down this year? Last year? I have. Even a week or so ago, the wind knocked clear out of me after I discovered something written about me. When these kinds of things happen to me, I want to give up. I like that Paul doesn’t say the knocking down isn’t hard. In the phraseology, he connotes the pain of it. He says we won’t be destroyed, but he doesn’t say we won’t be hurt by the knocking. On dark days where there’s little sunshiny yellow in my life, sometimes all I can do is remind myself that I need to be gentle with myself after the knocking down, and that no matter what comes against, it cannot destroy me. I am held in the cleft of a rock, covered by the feathers of my God, sheltered in a raging storm, feet held firm. He sings songs of deliverance over me. He loves me.

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It’s my sincere prayer that this little essay brings you some springtime hope. Your painting may have a dark backdrop today, but remember: redemption shines so much brighter on a darker canvas. My use of yellow today was my way of pushing back that darkness and settling into the light. I pray the same for you, too.

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Play

Tomorrow's the last day to get the whole set of stickers. I am discontinuing them, sadly. They've been reduced them from $33 down to $15 until Friday.

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Pray

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Jesus, please remind Reader to look at the NOTS today. I'm grateful that Reader is not crushed, not driven to despair, not abandoned, and not destroyed. When Reader experiences trouble, perplexity, persecution, and being knocked down, would you bring resurrection? This spring, stay close to Reader. Please provide for Reader in upside down ways. In Jesus's name I pray, Amen.

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Praying for you, Reader!
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Warmly,

Mary

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