craving paint

I’m craving paint.  And while, (thankfully!) it has nothing to do with eating, it’s a similarly intense mix of need and desire.  Rather than waxing eloquent about why I love paint so much (which I could easily do, and which is likely only interesting to a select few), let me just say this craving points to a whole lot more in our world at the moment than the tactile qualities of paint and color. 

It’s about making sense out of complex realities in an equally complex way.  Like in poetry or great fiction, or the Bach cello suite I’m listening to, great film or theater, when literal explanations are oversimplifications we need art.  I’m admittedly idealistic – which was much easier to pull-off when I was about 20 and had limited first-hand exposure to how complex life is.  However, it persists in me, thriving on opportunities, possibilities, optimism, great ideas for the future – pretty much anything that has not yet been directly touched by reality. 

Therefore, reality can be a tough competitor for my ideals to contend with.  Honestly, it can crush me with disappointment or more simply exhaust my passion.  My sweet husband in his efforts to protect me from such disappointments attempts to bring reality into the picture for me soon enough to keep my idealistic expectations in check.  I don’t always receive it graciously…

So in this grand struggle between ideals and realities, words, one-liners, quips, the “facts” all seem inadequate to order the experience. In good grad-school psych language, we try to “master and control” what we experience.  Funny thing that’s brought to light in that phrase is the knowledge that we simply cannot master and control our lives.  We live in dependence.  We are the ones Made and not the Maker.

I can’t speak for every painter, but I know what happens for me when I paint.  I work and struggle with colors and space and my brushes and my ideas, but at the same time another work is happening in me as all kinds of people and thoughts and pieces of puzzles in my experience come to mind to consider and pray over.  Somehow working on a painting creates space for the Lord to work on me at the same time.  I am brought into His mastery and control.  This is what I really crave: sanctuary and surrender.

the couch

Three years ago we moved out of our house and in with a friend.  We didn't bring our couch, but instead asked some other friends to "babysit" it for us. (which they did - again big thanks to the Pietzolds!)  We sort of assumed it would be too big to fit in a European apartment and wouldn't be able to come with us to Germany.  However, a European friend advised us differently.  The thing is, when our shipment arrived in December, our stairwell proved too small to fit the couch through.  So, it's been sitting at the Art Factory since December (thank you Holladays!) while we debated how to get it through our window.  Honestly, it wasn't very high on the priority list for a long time.  We finally decided to hire a company to bring this contraption:

an aufzug (lift) to get it through the window.  This is pretty customary in Europe... old buildings and moving aren't the easiest combo.  They came this morning at 7:30 am and set to work. They had to pull the trailer by hand from the nearby street to get to our windows. (That's a church you see in the background). 

 After they extended the lift and lined it up, they unfolded the platform, put our couch on it (it looked awfully wobbly) and started the lift.

 The guy on the inside scared me - he climbed up, stood on the window ledge and started tugging at the couch, eventually standing on the wobbly platform with the couch.  I could imagine either he or the couch falling...

 But all was well, and the couch is now in our living room!!!!!!  Just in case you haven't done the math, that's three years since we've been able to sit on our own couch..... we're a little excited.  It's just a couch.  It doesn't have any kind of eternal value, and we'd be just fine if we could never sit on it again, but it does bring us joy - like a really fun present.  So I've been thanking the Lord for it today, and for all the people that it brings to mind who have had some part in it being here as I rearrange and make our living room "home." (This also means that I will finally post the before and after pictures of our apartment soon.  I know some have wondered what our place is like.)

all done and heading back down

why are we in europe?

John spotted this article with videos (be sure to watch the videos) and it in a few minutes captures what we see here in Europe - and it makes our hearts ache.

Dutch rethink Christianity for a doubtful world

Here are a few key quotes:


"A study by the Free University of Amsterdam found that one-in-six clergy in the PKN [Protestant Church in the Netherlands] and six other smaller denominations was either agnostic or atheist."

Klaas Hendrikse: "You don't have to believe that Jesus was physically resurrected"

"Mr Hendrikse describes the Bible's account of Jesus's life as a mythological story about a man who may never have existed, even if it is a valuable source of wisdom about how to lead a good life."

Spelled out like this by BBC, I can only say that I'm even more compelled to be here in Europe, following a real Jesus, creating opportunities for people to see and know the person that He is.

If you have time, these podcasts by Timothy Keller offer beautifully articulated responses to just this kind of worldview.

How to Find the Way

Absolutism: don't we all have to find truth for ourselves?