The image I used as I began my blog experience is a painting my mom completed years ago.  For quite a few years she took classes and painted quite a number of large and small canvases.  As she hung them in her home, there were several we all hoped to one day own.  Especially those of snow covered scenes.  But this painting was different from most of her other paintings.  And eventually, it drew me in.  

I don’t remember exactly when it was brought to my home, but I believe it was after she moved in with us to begin treatments for cancer in 2016.  That was also the same year our church moved into a brand new building, which meant I gained a brand new office since I was serving as the Children’s Minister at the time.  As I decorated my new office, I chose to add this painting to one wall in the summer of 2016.  It hung straight across from my desk and was directly in my line of sight whenever I glanced up. 

As mom’s cancer progressed there were many days that I just simply focused on the painting.  I imagined myself walking up the path and into that small country cottage.  I imagined sitting inside the cottage alone and simply praying. I imagined walking along the stream. I  imagined the sound of the water flowing and birds singing all around.  The painting began to provide great comfort.  The moments I spent lost in this painting helped me as I returned my mind to the many tasks on hand. After mom passed away in December of 2018, my days lost in the painting kept my memories of her life special.

When the world was affected by Covid in 2020, many things changed in churches.  Days of planning alternative ways to keep kids connected with each other and Jesus seemed endless.  Days of wondering how long it would be before attendance returned to “normal” were long. I found myself lost in imagined prayer times in that cottage once again.  When I made the choice to return to work in the school system in 2021, the painting was relocated to our living room.  It hangs above the rocking chair that my mom sat in most days during her two and a half year battle with cancer. 

Daily, I sit and look at the painting and imagine journeying up that path, walking along the stream, and sitting inside that country cottage.  I treasure this painting so much more every day.  I remember how happy mom was during her years of painting.  I remember her joy in sharing her artwork with her family.  I remember her diligence (and patience) in finishing so many canvases.  As I remember, I smile.   

Happy Birthday Mom!  I hope your day is extra special there in Heaven.  I hope you knew how much joy your painting brought to me. It continues to fill me with joy every day. I love you and I miss you!

(In memory of LJZ – September 18, 1938-December 10, 2018)

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;” Isaiah 43:2-3a