December 15th. Artistry

I wrote this poem a couple of years ago after a particularly beautiful early morning walk in the park.

God's Artistry on a Winter Morning

The frosted morning biting black                                

gives way to opalescent hues
as sparrow, blackbird, wren and tit
begin to tell their morning news.

In distant reaches of the dawn
the winter sun begins to speak
his memories of warmer days
when he was young in strength and heat

The trees, undressed save for the frost,
in bitter rows resent the cold,
hibernating till the day
when spring once more her green unfolds.

How quickly is the night time past;
the moon, however, full and bright
is not so keen to go to sleep
and vies with sun to give her light.

And now the clouds are tinged with pink
the town awakes to do its duty
so many tardy waking souls
have missed this gift of winter beauty.

God is such an artist.  And not just in the wonderful things He puts in front of us each and every day - the scenery, the face of a loved one, the beauty of the sky and the sea and the marvellous creativity of people.   He is an artist in the way He weaves all of that together into something we don't yet understand because we only see in part.

I was driving the other day when I started to get the impression of someone painting, using a small brush to put hundreds of tiny strokes on a canvas.  Each stroke was a slightly different colour and texture, carefully placed by the artist.  But the whole picture was not evident - it was impossible to tell what it was going to be.  And I felt as though God was saying that every human being who has ever existed has been like a daub of paint on the canvas.  Each one different from the next but each contributing critically to the picture He is painting.  He is painting with purpose and with passion.  The picture He is painting is going to be more breathtakingly stunning than anything we could conceive or imagine.   I think it is something to do with Jesus standing before the Father and saying ' Here I am with the children the Lord has given me' .  Perhaps He is painting a family portrait.  And you and I will be in it along with everyone else who has been adopted through the Holy Spirit by the blood of the babe of Bethlehem.