A Word of Compassion: David begins Psalm 25 petitioning for himself and ends his lament petitioning for Israel. Oh, how deeply this resonates with our church right now. In many ways, this piece began as a personal journey and has progressed into petition for the Church at large. My husband and I are close to several people experiencing deep hurt. Our hearts are incredibly heavy for each of you. We’re listening. We’re praying. We’re seeking Christ. Psalm 25 is a psalm for us all. May grace and truth prevail as we seek Christ, clinging to the God of our salvation.
While my past couple of art pieces for this series were watercolor and calligraphy based, I decided to study a new fine art this summer: handcrafted paper flowers. Garden imagery is the focal point of most of my pieces, reminiscent of Eden, the restoration and hope in the future glory of Christ. The pathways in this passage reminded me of a maze and the ways God directs our paths, intersecting with one another and with unexpected twists and turns. The watercolor sketch to the left of the main piece illustrates my original vision for my floral display, one which creates a maze of stems while all of the flowers have a posture of uprightness, reflecting the action of “lifting up our souls (v. 1)” and keeping our “eyes ever toward the Lord (v. 15).” The twelve words entwined in the stems are all characteristics and actions found throughout the chapter which root our hearts and guide us in likeness of Christ.
The nets and dried flowers draped over the columns represent guilt, shame, afflictions, transgressions, and loneliness in which we can be so easily entangled. This imagery alludes to the truth that God is the only One who can “pluck our feet out of the net” and restore our brokenness with beauty.
Each flower in the bouquet is intricately pieced together with layers upon layers. The Italian crepe paper is delicate and could be easily torn if not handled with gentleness, especially the pieces I dyed and trimmed. Isn’t that wildly reminiscent of our Maker? All things created with intricate design and delicacy. I dyed most of these papers by hand and hung them from twine on our back porch as the sun dried them, a constant reminder that by God’s grace, “though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow (Isaiah 1:18).” The outcome of each strip brought unpredictable results, but it wasn’t until I cut each petal, shaped them and combined them with other petals and florets that the beauty emerged. The process took hours upon hours, far longer than any other project I’ve constructed. That patience and perseverance led to each flower offering significant beauty and its own unique story of refinement.
As I began assembling the stems for the maze, the stems were jumbled and messy. It looked awful. I had no choice but to unravel it all and pivot. Most of my plans for this piece failed… until I began wondering, “How did God see David in this lament? How does God see me? How does God see us?” The larger piece with the single stem and bouquet represents ‘the bigger picture,’ as the perspective of how God sees us while the watercolor sketch offers my humanly limited view of God’s plan. Rather than the flowers all pointing up, you, as the viewer, see the perspective shift as if God was looking at His children with radiant faces gazing up at Him. The single golden stem is shaped to reflect the twelve leaves representing the words included in the watercolor sketch. It represents His character, the way His truths cover us and sustain us, upholding the cluster of flowers which represent the body of Christ.
On a personal note: Lord willing, JD and I will be joining a new church as it takes root. Therefore, this will most likely be my last art installation for the Psalms series at this church. Serving in this capacity and sharing my art has altered my story in astounding ways that only God could orchestrate. It has been a true honor and joy to work with other artists in our church. Displaying artwork is vulnerable and humbling. Thank you for viewing my work with care and encouragement the past three years.
