F is for Forgiven

F is for…

Today, I’m supposed to write about failure. I’m way too familiar with that subject. I have failed to keep this website as fresh as I would like. I have failed to figure out photoshop quickly. I have failed to love my aging parents the way they deserve.

I have failed to even acknowledge Jesus’ invitation to come and be with him… to sit still and just… be “come.”

You know in Matthew 18 when they asked who was the greatest?

Jesus called a little child and said that unless you CHANGE and BECOME like that little child…

Well, first of all… Jesus called. And what goes unsaid but would have changed the whole story if it didn’t happen is this-

When Jesus called the little child, the little child came.

To be honest, I’m having trouble writing lately – or painting. I’m completely bored with quarantine. And the weather has taken my head and thrown it around in a barometric bucket. Every time the sun and clouds trade places (which seems to be every 15 to 20 minutes, lately), it’s like CLANG! against the side of the bucket and I can’t figure out how to feel.

I know that sounds ridiculously dramatic. It probably is.

But somehow, I did manage to paint a prayer page.

With a permanent pen, I wrote down my right-now-failures. It was easy to fill the page two layers deep.





Then I loaded my brush with an almost black gray and labelled myself with a big “F” for “Failure.”
















I found myself filling the page with “F” symbols in several colors and various sizes because that’s how failures roll. Some bigger than others.
















Some not so ugly.


“Now what, Lord?”

I realized I needed to let His blood cover these failures. In repentance, I painted a red “F” right in the center as I asked Him with paint to forgive me. I’m not even sure I used words? But Jesus saw my heart.

He said, “That red ‘F’ stands for ‘Forgiven’ now. And so do all the others. See what I’m doing? I’m transforming each of these areas you’ve given me.”






As He spoke, I began to paint green loops and realized they were becoming a tree growing out of the “cross” in the center.


“And now “F” is for “fruit” that reproduces forgiveness.”



And as I write now, I realize Forgiving always produces fruit. Sweet red juicy fruit.



Love,

Lydia C

©2020 Lydia D Crouch

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