Saturday, March 29, 2008

An Artist

This morning A. was sitting on our bed with a notepad and pencil drawing different configurations of our family. As she was showing me she said,'Mom, you know I AM a real artist." "Yes, Anna, you sure are," I say, pleased with her confidence and creativity. "Mom, you're a real artist, too. Right?" Why is it so hard to say yes with pleasure to that question? An artist, a writer, a musician. My kids and husband would tell you that I'm all of these things. Yet, the only thing I can do is muster up some embarassment and grin while I hope that I fade in with the background. The boundary between humility and self-hatred is deceptive. This is something I think about a lot. Does a Father or Mother give gifts and hope to embarass the children? NO. We are delighted when our kids bring a picture or sculpture or song or math problem or lego creation to us. We love it when we see them use those gifts to bless others, too. "Yes, Anna, momma is a real artist too."

No one lights a lamp and puts it in a place where it will be hidden, or under a bowl. Instead he puts it on its stand, so that those who come in may see the light. Luke 11:33

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