Susan LaffertyWhat happened? In the unknown, we wonder. What’s the rest of the story?
A specific encounter comes to mind. One seemingly orchestrated. Timely. A divine appointment with gospel flowing.
And genuine interest on her part. Hunger to know. In fact, she relates a series of events. That have brought her to this point. This place.
Sitting in my Karachi living room.
“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.
My mother tells the story. Her dad was going blind. So every morning she or her sister would stop by the home where he stayed. And read the Bible to him.
One particular day, Mom was in a hurry. On a tight schedule. She rushed in with no time to spare. Out of breath and talking fast. “So, Daddy, which chapter do you want me to read today?”
In his slow Southern drawl, Grandaddy said “Well, how about Psalm 119?”
