February 26 – “Masterpiece”

The tool of her art swirled majestically, exploding onto the dingy drabness, sweeping first the length of the canvas, then returning but a hair's breadth away, occasionally slashing into the lines of the first stroke.  As the small boy strains to place his tiny feet into the in the giant footprints of his father before him, so the brush seems to ache to return to the exact spot of origin.  Then, suddenly, the brush leaps from side to side in frantic lunges, driving, digging as if dodging a never-ending barrage of projectiles.  And just as suddenly, it rests, silent for a brief moment, gathering its resources within for the coming rush.  And so it comes, flitting merrily across the canvas, first this way, then that, barely touching yet leaving its telltale mark nonetheless, broken only by trips to the source, with its accompanying squeals of wonder and delight.  Soon the mood changes.  The strokes become forced and heavy, as weariness overwhelms the previous excitement.  A dab here.  A splash there.  A heavy heart.  A sadness.  Yet still the strokes continue, over and over, revisiting prior swipes with the new intensity, until the end.  Completion.  A step back to admire.  A discernable sigh escapes.  A tiny wisp of movement at the corner of the artist's mouth.  Could it be a smile?  Could it signal satisfaction?  Does it say, "Masterpiece"?  Indeed, it does.  Yet who will know?  Who will ever express appreciation or even acknowledge the final product?  Only those who see the flaws, those whose mantra rarely rises above, "You missed a spot."  For the purpose of this task is that it not be noticed at all.  So the artist, drained of all energy, perspiration accenting the inner glow of fulfillment, with the purposeful movements of one who is satisfied with her work, content with her effort, returns her mop to the bucket and pushes it on to her next canvas, her next challenge, her next assignment, the next room.   OK.  I know it sounds a little dramatic, but we sure had a good time watching one of the high school girls get through her first attempt at mopping the floor.  The story above is to honor her efforts, and to encourage taking such risks in the future.  May she, may we all, make whatever we do into a true masterpiece  worthy of a smile.   Colossians 3:17 says, "And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."   Father, you have made some masterpieces out of dirty floors and a mopbucket.  Thank you for letting me know some of them  Amen.