© 2017 Lynn Abbott
I had time to prepare. Not much else can be said for it, but at least, cancer does provide the opportunity to say “goodbye.”
And so when my mother drew her last breath in June of 2008, I not only said “goodbye” but more importantly, I whispered “I love you” again and again.
Nevertheless, grief propelled me into deep shadows. Understandably, I looked for ways to soothe such tremendous heartbreak, to anchor my life despite the loss of Mom’s counsel, shelter, nurture and daily expressions of love.
My husband says that art was my mother’s parting gift to me.
No, Mom wasn’t an artist.
My husband simply means that had it not been for her death, I probably would not have picked up my paintbrush again. Or if I had, I might have remained a dabbler.
After all, life has a way of filling our time. And prior to Mom’s death, my days were full, and happy.
After her passing, however, the hours stretched out in endless grief. Plunging into a painting project helped me forget that grief for a few hours. You might say that like Mary Poppins I was popping in and out of my “chalk pictures” and taking a mental, jolly holiday.
Whatever the case, it worked. Painting brought me a kind of temporary respite, offering some comfort and peace during those dark days.
My husband says that art was my mother’s parting gift to me.
Every time grief, anxiety, or cold shadows enveloped me, I painted. I painted a lot.
In fact, I typically produced 2-3 new compositions per week. As a result, I can say with all honesty that while practice doesn’t exactly make one practically perfect in every way, it certainly yields improvement. Or as some of my educator friends say, “Practice makes progress.”
In this way, my mother’s “goodbye” became synonymous not with ending but with beginning. Pain gave way to painting. Goodbye introduced hello.
Christ may have anticipated a similar yet supernatural transformation when in the days and hours before His death, He promised His disciples that the Comforter or Helper would come, (John 14:26).
He explained, “But I tell you the truth: It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you,” (John 16:7).
In Acts 1, after His death and resurrection, Christ reminded his disciples of this promise. His Ascension not only heralded but inaugurated the coming of the Comforter–still further realization of Immanuel, God with us.
Yes, in His ongoing grace toward us, God has once more provided for our good. With His Spirit’s continual presence comes power over the shadows and darkness of this world. He is our mighty fortress, strong tower, counselor and ever-present help in time of trouble.
So when shadows creep into our lives; when fear, anxiety, and grief preoccupy our thoughts; when darkness chills the soul, I wonder why you and I do not remember more often to run to the Comforter to find the lasting, perfect peace that only He provides.
With His Spirit’s continual presence comes power over the shadows and darkness of this world.
Do I fear mockery such as Peter and the others faced that day of Pentecost? Am I afraid of appearing too radical, and out-of-the-mainstream? Or have I simply misunderstood, complicated, or even forgotten Christ’s promise of the Holy Spirit?
Quite honestly, I’m not sure why.
I do know, though, that the entire book of Acts acquaints me with our source of strength. And I see the simplicity of it all: you and I need simply to ask. When we knock on Abba’s door, the way is opened to us. When darkness looms, we need only pray, seeking comfort from God’s Spirit.
If we don’t know how to pray in a situation, we ask the Holy Spirit to intercede for us. When we’ve lost our way, we are invited to cry out to Him for guidance.
When you and I find Scripture difficult to comprehend, God’s Spirit will instruct. When fear and anxiety cripple me, the Spirit stands waiting to take captive those thoughts.
Ask. It’s as simple as that. No spiritual hocus pocus. No litany of good works required. Simply ask Him and find “grace to help in time of need,” (Hebrews 4:16).
Of course, because of human frailty, I find I must “practice the presence of God” continually. You can be sure I’m asking the Holy Spirit to teach, guide, and intercede for me as well as to intervene when my thoughts wander in shadow.
Ask. It’s as simple as that.
Without a doubt, I’m asking by far more than 2-3 times per week. After all, painting a life story in faith’s deep colors requires the unremitting power of God’s Spirit in the moment-by-moment. Thankfully, practicing His presence brings perfect peace.
Yes, we have the promise: God’s Spirit will illuminate the way, driving out darkness and carrying us safely through the “shadow lands.”
And Isaiah testifies of God, “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you,” (Isaiah 26:3).
“Let us therefore draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need,” ~ Hebrews 4:16
“And in the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God,” ~Romans 8:26-27
Through Ink & Image 