Grace Notes

There's a special stitch in my pattern that is called a "Tweeded Stitch," made up of one strand of Gold and one strand of Green.

There are only 15 tiny stitches of this tweed in the whole pattern, rather scattered throughout the background. Here in the picture, you can see what the combination looks like on the plain canvas background as well as how it subtly fits in with the greens and grays at the top.

I don't think the tweed really makes a significant impact on the bigger image. It doesn't have a practical purpose in completing the picture - not like eyes or fingers, anyway. I could probably have filled in those spots with plain "Medium Green" or "Light Green Gray" and it wouldn't be missed. There is a lot going on, and it can just blend in and get overlooked.

But I do see a special beauty about it. That glimpse of gold twisted in with the green somehow adds light and magic to the scene. Like "grace notes" in music - those tiny details that embellish a note ever-so-stealthily - it causes the beholder to smile without being able to put their finger on why. It's an artistic touch, an intentional attention to detail that demonstrates the care and value the creator gives to the creation.

Today I am considering the tiny details that God takes time to perfectly form and place around me - things that may seem insignificant at first, but really do evoke light and joy. They are the things that remind me that He is personally interested and invested in my life, that I am special and important to him... they are the little notes of his grace to me.

Listening to: "After All These Years," by Andrew Peterson

The Back Side

I finished up the color green! While you still can't tell what the picture will be on the front side, things are coming together to form something orderly and significant. Then I flipped the canvas over to look at the back side:

Actually, it doesn't look too bad, does it? I try to keep the stitches neat and as close together as possible in the back - this helps the canvas stay smooth and flat, and I think it makes each strand last longer and go farther on the front side, too. But still, being inverted and jumbled, it's hard to make out what is happening. Compared to the front, this is a bit chaotic - and will become increasingly chaotic as I add more clarity and definition to the front. There are loose ends, overlapping strands, stitches that go in different directions, and stitches that stretch across more space to get from one point to another. As much as I want the back to look okay, I know that it doesn't have to look pristine and perfect. The purpose of the back side is to get the embroidery floss where it needs to be on the front side, and what is most important is what the picture is becoming... 

I'm thinking about the back side of my canvas today, because I've been thinking a lot about the "back side of my life journey" lately. If my life were a canvas, I could say that I prefer to be on the front side, controlling the stitches and benefiting from having access to the big-picture pattern. But when I submit my life to the will of my Creator, I give the "needle and thread" to God, and let him re-position me to look at the back side of the canvas. From this perspective, I can sometimes see how His hand is moving, but mostly I am confounded by just glimpsing scattered bits and pieces, unsure of what He's creating... Why did he choose that color? Where is he going with this stitch? Why does he keep going over that same spot? How long is this string, when will it end, and what will come next?

And throughout all my doubts, confusion, and questions, He knows the plan, He has a clear view of how to accomplish it, and He is bringing order and significance to all that appears to me to be chaos.

Be praised, O Lord, by this work of Your hands!

Listening to: "The Color Green," by Rich Mullins

Fifty Shades of Gray?!

... Well, maybe just five shades of gray - but it feels like fifty! (Was that too inappropriate??) In sorting and separating the colors, it always amuses me (and slightly annoys me) when the color descriptions read like this: "Medium Gray," "Light Gray," Medium Light Gray," etc. The differences are so subtle, I go a bit cross-eyed trying to distinguish which color name matches with which floss. But I'm learning that there is purpose in these details - each strand on its own isn't so remarkable, but together they are becoming a valuable part of the greater image.

We're going on two weeks of cloudy/rainy weather, of which I am not a fan. When I look out the window, my primary descriptive word is "gray." But really, I am starting to notice that there are lots of shades out there, and they add dimension and depth to the sky and landscape, a sort of multi-faceted beauty of its own... a subtle gradient from light to dark, shadows on the edges of clouds, watermarks on the rooftops, streams running down the road... they all work together to tell a story. Ok, on the surface, it's the story of a rainy day, but if I look closer, I see a deeper story... a story of cleansing and purifying - carrying away the old, making way for something new and fresh, creating opportunity for life to be refreshed and restored... oh Lord, you bring beautiful restoration, hallelujah...

Listening to: "All the Poor and Powerless," by All Sons & Daughters

The First Stitch

I started another cross-stitch project, one that my brother Andrew gave to me as a gift... because he knows I love colors, crafts, cross-stitch, Disney, and Beauty and the Beast. It might be small, but look at all these colors!!

After separating out the strands of embroidery floss, framing the canvas, and threading the needle, I'm ready for stitching. And where do I begin? Right in the center... which according to the pattern is a random grey spot that obscurely blends into the background. It doesn't look special or significant in the grand scheme of the picture, but it's a start, and it will act as a guide for where all the other stitches will land.  

On the recommendation of my other brother, Kevan, I've decided to document the progress of this project as the first "miniseries" on this blog, called "The Art of Celebration." The title comes from the Rend Collective's song, "Boldly I Approach," one of my all-time favorite praise songs. I also chose the title because of the realization that being creative and artistic are qualities that we all have in some way, because we've been made in the image of our Creator (Genesis 1:27), and therefore our creative expression can be an act of worship when it reflects His glory. So I will share with you the things that come to my mind and heart, as I stitch and worship through song and prayer and wonder.

"This is the art of celebration: knowing we're free from condemnation! Oh, praise the One who made an end to all my sin!"