Susan Lafferty“Hmm,” my college art teacher says. Then again, “Hmmmm.”
She’s looking over my shoulder. At the simple drawing. Graphite lines. Bare bones to plan and guide the assigned painting.
“Bigger. Go big!” She says. With increasing volume. Her arms flying out for emphasis. “Stretch it out. Go biiiig.”
The startling command contrasts with my small, neat pencil sketch. So confined and contained.
Approaching October. In a year that beats all. And it occurs to me. I can’t remember this year’s verse.
Typically, I ask the Lord if there’s a verse to focus on throughout the year.
And I write the chosen verse out. Meditate on it. Consider applications along the way. Note similar themes in daily Bible readings that year.
Today, I’m searching. It’s September. And no 2020 verse is written on my spiral-bound notecards. What?
Tomorrow. Next month. Next year.
Detailed future schedules, meticulously stored in digital calendars.
Vanish. Into thin air. Digital air.
As a corona virus disrupts. Delays. Deletes.
And thieves break in.
Whispering fear. Stealing contentment.
This confining space. A refining place. Reveals.
Makes plain where best-laid-plans put down roots.
And expectations take hold.
“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will travel to such and such a city.…Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring—what your life will be!…”
James 4:14,15
