Dear America,
"The Lord God said, 'it is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.' Now the Lord Lord God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each creature, that was its name..." Genesis 2:18-19
oh about twelve years ago, this girl was in the midst of a transition, so to speak. And when I say transition, for an Aries such as I am, it usually comes fast and furious and without any looking back.
Hindsight being what it is -- it's now rather amusing how one thing might end, suddenly, sadly, and with all the emotional somersaults that come with -- and then in a flash, realize oh how great, oh how great thou art, for that path was not mine.
This is my path.
This.
The place where little old gthing finds herself today. And is it still a work in progress? you bet, for I am unfinished.
What brought this on? Where are you going with this G?
Well, to go back to the origins, it all began with a blank canvas received from a guy I'm no longer with (that was where the fast and furious, referenced above, comes in, right?). It was part of a birthday present...just before we split in pieces.
And at the time, my immediate response was to just let my little girl paint them all (for he gave me nearly a half dozen in various sizes)...for I wasn't going to even touch them. So she painted an elephant on one (16 X 20), a mama duck and her ducklings on another (24 X 36!), and that was that for awhile.
Then one day, long after the break up, after the moon and stars realigned in my world, and eventually finding myself coming back around and with my creative spirit rushing up to the surface -- there I was, determined to totally "move on." My thoughts quickened, gathering enough courage to resume dominion over my life once more. This girl was going to paint something.
And she did.
It was rather simple, nothing earth shattering; it was a big shell, with a little shell right beside her, against the most beautiful cerulean blue background. And while this 20 X 24 inch masterpiece bounced from one part of the house to another, depending on my mood, one day a couple years later, my little girl and me found ourselves all packed up with somewhere else to go.
From there, this picture -- with a name of it's own, if only in my own mind -- was now across town, placed in the entry way, under a small table, almost hidden from view.
Of course, I knew it was there. And often it would catch my eye, like a sparkly, shiny thing, and it would make me smile...for I knew it's name. And I knew what happened inside me on the day it was born.
On the day it was born, it signified significant change in me. But even so, there it sat, nearly out of sight and under a table, for years and years...until about two weeks ago.
In the midst of developing a picture wall -- beginning with the placement of three framed photos of my girl, choosing some gorgeous snapshots of her trip to Salta, Argentina -- the instant messaging from the universe told me to put up the shells.
And I did.
And it was good.
But not good enough.
Looking around, all of a sudden an ah-ha moment ambushed me from out of nowhere. There it was. Sitting under another tabletop, in the accompaniment of a bunch of antique books, was a little something I framed for sentimental reasons. When we had to put our Boston down, BooBoo, in 2015, one of the condolences received was this beautiful card. In splashes of pink and gold and jade, posies framed a few words from Ecclesiastes, "there is a time for everything under heaven."
So the wall continued to build, organically and wonderfully; first a row of three black framed prints, then the 20 X 24 shells, then the itty bitty 5 X 7 humdinger at the top, reigning supreme an idea worthy of screaming from the mountaintops -- prescribing taking life as it comes! For until we are finished, we are all unfinished and a work in progress, good, bad or indifferent. There truly is a time for everything under heaven.
And it was good.
But not good enough.
It was time...
So sitting under the wall of pictures, the snapshots of life and times and memories and magnificence, my urge to finish something started twelve years ago came over me.
The shells needed a name, the name that was locked inside my head since the very first brushstroke.
"mother and child"
And in the process of painting its name, the finishing touches of puff-paint, in glorious swooshes of curly q's and swirls, began to twirl on top of the shells in free abandon. My hand and eye were bouncing from one edge of the canvas to another so fast and furious, it was a wonder this girl could even find the self control to stop.
But she did.
And it was good.
And I'm pretty sure, it's finished -- this blank canvas has met it's maker and it is done. (I think)
And in this moment, I must thank a guy named John Gray, of John Gray's World, for the inspiration back behind this day; you, my dear soul, are a Godsend. For yesterday, I sat there listening to John Gray and his message -- just one within a series of messages that he has named, "Dominion" -- with my mind blown. For in no uncertain terms -- no gray to be seen nor found -- John Gray explains in black and white our essential birthright, given to us by God. (And referring to the very verse in Genesis found up top, at the start of this day...)
In order to live a solid, secure, life under God, and in the way the world made expressly by God was designed -- a world that flourishes in goodness, and charity, and blessings, and anchored with hard work and diligence and activity -- we must come out from under the table and take dominion over our life.
In the beginning, man -- as in mankind -- was given the power to name things, to take dominion over the animals of the earth, giving each one a name. And as Gray points out, while honoring God in every word, each of us was given our own garden to plant, to create, to build, to name, by the power of the Holy Spirit.
We were not born to be placed under a table, sub-par and out of sight; we were made in God's image to take dominion over our lives...not from a place of arrogance, but from a place of gratitude and grace, knowing we are children of the Almighty, Omniscient, Creator of all things Divine. We ARE one of those things. This earth, this country, is a gathering place of cerulean souls and opalescent dreams; a place where heaven and earth meet and find a way to come to life, individually and collectively, over time and generations.
On a larger canvas, America is the creation of Divine Intelligence meeting up with the unique divinity within our founders. At one time, the canvas was blank, empty, ready for the revolution to march across the vast landscape of things to be and not to be; every generation comes chock full of seasons which come and go and have their way with us under the light of day or the cover of night.
So be it.
In the last twelve years --
in the time it took for me to gain the courage, to meet my obstacle of a broken spirit, and see it come back to life right before my very eyes, although not all at once; and now, being at this place, that purposely elevates it to such heights on my living room wall, and thereby, making the things that matter, the things that give meaning and relevance to everything under heaven for me, so clear, and not only that, my own personal centerpiece -- surely, I am not the only one experiencing a transformation of transition....
America has come through the second administration of Bush, an entire eight years of Obama, and is beginning a brand new season with Trump.
The irony is, the revolution, the changes, the evolution of a living masterpiece in America, will live to see another day and in all the days to come, until such time it is finished -- not according to mankind -- but according to the Lord. This is a given. It is settled science. And God already knows how and when it ends.
The thing that rings most loud and true, is our unique ability to become something. As individuals and as countrymen, we seem to meet crossroads of where we go from here every single day. The canvas keeps building upon an idea, and another, and another.
This can be overwhelming, this power to name who we are, deciding where we go and what we stand for in every moment, and becoming a choice that lives and breathes and carries its own life force all its own. It is a great responsibility.
IT is our duty and delight, really.
" a time to be born, and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot...a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them....a time to keep and a time to throw away...a time to be silent and a time to speak...a time for war and a time for peace."
Just a spattering of seedlings from Ecclesiastes 3
Long, long time ago, my parents gave me a name....Gretchen.
I gave my girl a name, on the day she was born, too.
I gave my love for her a name, on the day when the shells eventually came out from under the table and displayed in the center of our home..."mother and child."
I gave my creative spirit a name, upon this blog, proclaiming the day in the life of this American girl, ain't nothing but a gthang, baby...
And from this day forward, my aim is to continue to create the things worthy of giving it a name; for God gave each and every one of us a unique ability, the abundance of resources (even if unseen to the naked eye), and an enterprising spirit inside us, to take dominion over our life and make it good.
Emphasis on good.
Even though this blog has come to the end of the day, the day has only just begun and is yet unfinished -- just as I am unfinished [to the extent of that, only God knows how far this girl has to go from here...teehee). Just as there is a time to write and a time to play, there is a time to work; and surely as the day is long, the time to work must come before the time to wine. Besides, the work must get finished before we can call it done and give it a name...
Make it a Good Day, G
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