The Beauty Hunt

I am on a quest for Beauty. Now if I meant the world’s definition of beauty, I suppose I wouldn’t have to look far. All I would have to do is find a doctor who would cut away enough and put enough plastic in me to make me look like a magazine cover. Enough. This beauty tells us we will never be enough the way we are. When I run after that, it only brings dissatisfaction.

No, I am talking about true Beauty. The kind I am just starting to recognize. The kind I see in my grandma’s gentle smile, in the myriads of different flowers, in a heroic act, in a child’s innocence.

I love nature. I can’t get enough of sunsets, butterfly wings and astounding variety. For the longest time though, I couldn’t verbalize why. I loved the beauty but felt like the reason lay in something deeper than what my eyes were seeing. It wasn’t until I started to see the world as God’s artwork that I really started to understand.

All that is Beautiful and Good stems from God. He is the ultimate definition of Beauty and thus, everything that is truly Beautiful reflects on who He is. All symmetry, harmony, creativity and variety in nature stem from His imagination. All kind acts, noble feelings, and bravery are concepts humans can have only because they came first from the mind of God.

So in finding true Beauty in the world, I find God and in so doing find joy and contentment. Anne Voskamp explains in One Thousand Gifts, “This is how. I learn how to say thank you from a laid-low stalk of wheat. From the wind rustling glory through the dried blades of grass raised, from the leaves in the silver maple hushed awed still. I pay tribute to God by paying attention.”

I believe that paying attention to the Beauty that surrounds us is a piece of finding that full life that Jesus promised us. If we can identify the Good and Beautiful in life and gratefully attribute it all to its Source, we find joy- a joy that never ends as there is always more Beauty to find because the Source is infinite.

I say this all fully aware that pain and ugliness exist in our universe. I am not saying we should ignore this. Pain needs to be looked in the face. But if I can train myself to see the Beautiful while being aware of the ugly, the Beautiful will give me the strength to bear the pain with joy.

These are the moments to remember

Sometimes life is hard.
Sometimes, you wake up in the morning and it takes a while to remember what the point of it all is.
But sometimes God sends reminders as to why its all worth it.
Today was one of those days.
Almost a year ago, I walked into my 6th grade English classroom and met a girl who was hard and bitter. As I got to know her, I realized she wore anger like a mask to cover a world of hurt. Slowly the mask slipped aside and I met one of the sweetest girls I know. Our relationship has been a series of ups and downs as she has gradually learned to trust me and share with me about her hard family life. Today I was given a gift. As I was talking to her she told me she is trying very hard this year to behave better in school and told me that she would love to be able to call me her aunt. My heart melted. And in that moment, I thought back to the girl I had first met and realized how much of a change I can see in her. Now the angry mask has ceased to be her normal wear and instead the sweet girl is the most visible.
This afternoon Erin and I went to visit a family from the school to give them some gifts that their sponsor had sent down. He had sent the kids a beautiful picture Bible and the Max Lucado book, You are Special. The parents received a Scofeild study Bible. Not all families here in Guayaquil appreciate books, but this family does. Little Allison sat down right away with the Bible and flipped through, naming all the stories.  Her mom was ecstatic about the study Bible, saying that God knew exactly what she needed and had sent it. As we sat outside their bamboo and cement home, Erin decided to read the Max Lucado book to the family. Their eyes were glued to the pictures the whole time. Every time I looked at their faces, I got goosebumps. This is the point: to show the people that most have forgotten that their Creator loves them and that they are special.

Well done, Brunilda. And see you later.

Perhaps you don’t know, but the Christian family lost an outstanding member this past Friday. In fact, you probably don’t know, because she shone her light in a tiny community in rural Ecuador that most people don’t even know exists.

I only met her once, and regret not having talked to her more. I went to visit Las Jaguitas a few months ago with Kenia, an Ecuadorian friend, who was showing me around her home town. She took me to visit her grandma, Brunilda, and I immediately noticed this woman’s beauty. She was 84 years old and lived in a simple house with only the barest necessities. She had lived a hard life, constantly battling poverty, seeing 3 of her children die and being the sole caretaker of a blind husband and mentally handicapped daughter. Yet, in spite of all this there was a peace and sweetness reflected in the lines of her face that were easily recognisable.

But it wasn’t until she passed away and I heard people talking about her, that I realized how truly special this woman was. Brunilda spent her whole life living in Las Jaguitas- she had never even been to the ocean (which is only about 2 hours away). She was not well educated and never had a lot of money, yet I find myself admiring her more than many other people I have met. Her devotion to God was of greater worth than a world of PHDs and paper diplomas.

Every morning Brunilda faithfully swept the one room church in Las Jaguitas and prayed the entire time she did it. She learned to read using the Bible as her primer with the whole purpose of being able to read it. This woman who had barely any education knew entire psalms by memory. At the funeral her family kept mentioning how she had a special talent of making food stretch. No matter how many people showed up at her house or how little she had, she always found a way to make her bit of food go all around- even give people seconds. Her son says he thinks God blessed her hands to make the food multiply. The preacher said she never failed to have orange juice ready for him when he was preaching. Her nephew said he had never seen her angry or complain. She was like a mother to the whole community, giving more than she had and always listening, caring and giving gentle, wise advice.

As I took my turn to look in the casket- at the lined, serene, face- I felt I was looking at a veteran comrade-in- arms who had successfully completed her last mission. I looked at her and realized that I want to be like her. I can get so caught up in theological discussions, philosophies, big questions that history has never answered. I can run around in circles in my head, going dizzy chasing these things, but when I looked at Brunilda I realized that those things don’t matter so much. Her simple, child-like faith stood the test of life’s hardest storms and questions, and she came out of the furnace a rare quality of gold.

Well done, Brunilda. Enjoy your well-earned reward. I know I’ll be seeing you later.

Expensive Tastes

I think I was born with expensive tastes. Even though my family wasn’t rich, I somehow innately knew that jewels were pretty and I wanted them. Hardly a day went by when I didn’t dress up in my flouncy dress and put on my plastic tiara and jewels. I pretended I was Cinderella and because I was a missionary kid, I married King David instead of Prince Charming [that was before I understood the whole Bathsheba issue].

It didn’t disappear as I grew older. I can walk into the cookie aisle in a store and without fail, the cookies I want are the most expensive ones. Sometimes I think God put me into a missionary family so I would learn to say “no” to all the things I want and buy economically.

And I have learned to say no to most of the unnecessary things I want and it doesn’t normally bother me.  But a few months ago I was walking through a mall and passed by a jewelry store allowing myself more than the usual cursory glance. I saw a big beautiful emerald surrounded by glittering diamonds and was struck with the thought that I would never have it.

For some reason that thought made me sadder than it ever had before- especially thinking that I would never know what it feels like to be rich- like really rich. I mean, when you choose to study Global Studies in university and then go on the missions field you can’t really expect to be able to just walk into a nice jewelry store and pick something out just for the heck of it. But there is a part of me that wants to know what that is like. I only get to live life once and I want to experience all that life has to offer.

I went home still feeling sad. I knew it was silly because even the lifestyle I am living is considered super rich by more than 75 percentish of the world. But I was still sad. Until the thought came to me that I would be unbelievably rich. Someday. And it’s a sure thing that doesn’t even depend on me. As a child of God I will one day live in a mansion with foundations made of jewels and walk down streets paved with gold. And as the adopted child of a King, I will have the legitimate status of a princess.

Yesterday, in a Bible study we ready Revelations 21-22, all about the wonders of Heaven. As I read about the gates of New Jerusalem being made of pearls and even the measuring stick of the angel being made of gold, I realized that God has expensive tastes too. It’s not wrong to like nice things- what’s wrong is to make chasing after them our life end. But maybe, just maybe, God gave us expensive tastes to remind us where our true home is.

More than bare necessities

It was mid- September in Ecuador and I walked around the gated community of Caracol in a mild state of desperation. I needed to find a house to rent, and I needed to find it before November, when my current house would be needed by another missionary. But there were hardly any homes available to rent, and the ones I saw were not ideal.

To tell the truth, I knew it would be hard to satisfy me. Caracol is a nice-ish community, but for a girl used to the wide-open spaces of the mountains of Mexico and the rolling green fields of southern Ontario, a small cement block of a house in a crowded neighborhood did not seem appealing. However, I recognised I was a missionary, and with that job-description comes certain sacrifices.

But I had some criteria that were ministry related. Most homes in Caracol consist of four rooms and a bathroom: a kitchen, living room and two bedrooms.  Only in a few homes is there no wall between the living room and the kitchen. I was currently living in one of these select few and I loved it because I could host a group of people comfortably. This was the main thing I wanted, and I felt that because it was ministry related, I could reasonably ask God to help me find a house with a room big enough to hold a group of people.

Between the house I was in and my co-worker’s homes, we have no space to host visitors. As we have visitors coming down quite often, I thought it would be great if God would lead me to a house that had one extra room that we could have as a guest room when people came. This was also ministry related but not absolutely necessary, so I put it to God as a suggestion as something I would like but knew I didn’t absolutely need.

My dreams about what kind of house I wanted included balconies and a patio where green things could grow. Also, I where I currently lived was a 30 second walk from my co-workers, Becky and Erin’s, house and which was wonderful anytime I wanted to borrow a cup of sugar or needed company. I was praying for a home close to their house, but felt it was unrealistic to ask God to find me a house within that same block. So I limited my prayers to “as close as possible”.

I was worried too about how to furnish the house. Here the homes are empty shells when you rent them. You have to furnish everything yourself- right down to the stove and kitchen cabinets. I kept running around in circles in my brain trying to figure out how I would make the house into a home without spending way too much money.

One day, Erin was out walking around the neighborhood and saw the owner of a house she had looked into renting a while back. She didn’t have sign out that she was renting but said that she was considering renting it out. We went later and climbed up the narrow, foot and a half wide staircase to the second floor with low expectations- and were surprised by what we saw. Two big bedrooms, a kitchen connected to the living-room (no wall in-between), two extra rooms (guest rooms?!), not one, but two balconies and the one at the back looked out onto an empty lot filled with palm trees and all sorts of green things. What’s more is it was about a 30 second walk from Becky and Erin’s house. It was exactly what I wanted and then some.

The one drawback was that it was more money to rent than my current home and I wasn’t totally sure if it was right for me to spend a larger chunk of my monthly income on rent. So I went home, mulling it over. The next morning, I got word that another person had decided to support me monthly. That for me was the last thing I needed to make up my mind. If I really believed that God directs His people when they bring prayers before Him and if I really believed that He gives us more than we ask for just because we are His children, then how could I reject this opportunity and just chalk it up to coincidence?

The last worry was how to furnish it- I was picturing empty rooms furnished with a plastic table and chairs. Then we got talking to other missionary friends who were planning to leave for a year and had been praying for a place to store their furniture until they came back. They wondered if I would be needing any furniture. Uh… yes!! They were willing to give me anything I needed- from beautiful couches to cutlery and cleaning supplies. And when were they planning to move out? The first week of November- the very week I was planning to move in.

I left that conversation with a greater understanding of God. I much too often fall into the trap of seeing God as a being who demands sacrifice and hardship from His children. Here I was shown without a doubt that He is a Father who lavishes love and full life on His children, delighting to give us more than just the bare necessities.

Why Art?

Is art necessary? Its been a question that's been floating around in my mind the last few weeks and I think its been circling around in people's minds over the past eons... Technically we humans don't need art to survive. For our bodies to live we need food, shelter and water. Strictly speaking we should be fine if we have all those needs met. Yet my mind cringes at the idea of just having my needs met. I want to flourish and somehow I believe that art is tied into that seemingly elusive characteristic. Why? Because art is an expression of Beauty...

I've been thinking a lot about this because I recently began an art club at the school I am working at here in Ecuador. From what I am told, children here are not really taught to imagine and think creatively or critically. Mostly, they are taught to copy and to do things the way they are told. When I heard that, something inside of me told me that imagination and creativity are necessary parts of life, but at first I couldn't articulate why I felt that way, because on the surface they really are not. Why should a child learn to mix colors, and to imagine something that doesn't exist and create that on paper?

The other day, something clicked. I was walking through a street in the dirty squatter community where I work and saw a butterfly. When it opened its wings, I saw ebony-black with sky-blue splashed across its wings and it struck me what a wonderful artist God is. Each species of butterfly has its own unique artwork painted on its wings. In fact all of nature can be seen as God's artwork.

I am not a professional artist, I just like to dabble in painting here and there. But I've always sort of felt that my art is personal. If someone thinks its ugly, I feel hurt; if someone loves it, I am honored. In a way my artwork is an expression of who I am. God's art is the same. I believe we can find out who He is if we pay attention to the masterpiece He laid out for us in His creation. We can see he is artistic from the colors on butterfly wings. We can know He is creative from all the different shapes of animals that walk the planet. We learn He has a sense of humor from  gamboling puppies and braying donkeys. We know He loves us by the fact that there are gorgeous sunsets- just 'cause. Not because we needed it, but because He wanted us to take pleasure in it.

To love God's nature is to give Him glory and I believe it pleases Him in the same way an artist takes pleasure when people admire their art. When we imitate that artwork, and imitate His action of creating in making our own art, stretching our minds and using our imagination that came straight out of His vast imagination, I think it makes Him smile. Yes, art is necessary because it has the potential to bring us closer to the very Heart that created it.