Any good pastor will prepare their hearts and the sermon they plan to preach well before they deliver it. They will most likely organize their thoughts and print out notes to remind themselves of what the Lord is saying. They might find pictures to better illustrate key points, all in the hope of clearly communicating His heart.

My process has been, and continues to be, one of self-discovery. It is like none other. This may sound lofty, but it’s really not meant to be. My process, just like my fingerprint, is not like anyone else’s. It’s unique to me, just like your process will be unique to you, and this is how it should be. God is the creator and the author of creativity. Creativity isn’t modeled by cookie-cutter anything. It is a process of making something out of nothing. God is producing life, calling chaos into order where there was no order, no inspiration, no pattern, no nothing.

But while God is creative, He is far from random, in that He doesn’t just stick arms where legs should be unless there’s a reason. He doesn’t just throw things in a pot and wait to see what happens. He is the God of the Good Orderly Direction. He is a God of the planned and a God of His Word.

I’ve found it interesting that God chose to speak the world into existence rather than, say, fashion it out of clay. In my way of thinking, this choice has so many implications. For one thing, it speaks to the importance of word choices. It tells me that my words have tremendous power because I am a co-creator. My words to myself and others create the worlds we live in. If I tell myself, I can’t then I won’t. If I say I’m ugly or fat or dumb then I will begin to act like I’m ugly, fat, or dumb. People will begin to treat me that way and I will actually produce those qualities. If I say I’m not creative, then I won’t make the effort to be creative, and so on.

The hope though, is that I can choose to take my Father at His Word. I can begin to spot the lies and choose to let them go. I can choose to exalt His thoughts toward me over the garbage that’s been dumped on me. Yes, I know, easier said than done, but we make choices every minute to embrace the lies spoken over us. We’re pros at recapitulating the mishmash of wrong; but my bet is, if we chose to, we can become the light-bearers we were created to be. It’s a choice though. We have to decide, in the moments of despair and anguish to believe we are who He says we are and ask for His help. Not an easy task for sure, but one that is oh so necessary to our mission.

So, my process begins by deciding to make room for Him in the clutter of my mind, my packed schedule, and my fear-ridden heart. I begin with worshiping to clear away the cobwebs and the lies that built up from the hours of living on earth. The victory begins by choosing to believe that He loves me and wants to talk to me. Yes, every time; even after having done this for a while, I still battle to find the truth in those deep dark corners. It’s just how it is, at least for now. Maybe at some point, He’ll zap me fully whole and healed completely, but as it stands, I still battle to hear His truth.

I’ll plug in a worship set that suits my temperament that day, roll up my sleeves, and press in. I can’t always get to the last place I found Him, but He’s always been faithful to meet me where I am. Many times, through physical pain, rejection, or even melancholy, are obstacles I fight through to get to Him. I start with gratitude. I just start thanking Him for random things. My arms and legs mostly work; the roof over my head; the food in the fridge – that I even have a fridge. Basic stuff that sometimes seems kind of hokey, but it gets the ball rolling. My husband says you can’t steer a parked truck, and while I believe God can, I’m just not that good, so I start simple. And it works; before I know it, my eyes aren’t on myself and my junk. I become others-minded if you will. This process seems to be all about getting me out of the way.

If I know I’m scheduled to paint, I might start with something like, “So, you know I’m on the schedule to paint next Sunday. What do you want to say? What’s on your heart?” Generally, I have no clue. He gave me an idea I assumed was for one week, only to have me hold it for another time, but I don’t think I’ve ever gone in with something, asking Him to bless it. Although, it would be absolutely okay to do that as long as I ultimately paint what He needed me to paint.

Pretty much every occasion is different. My only real constant is the leather-bound sketchbook He had me buy.  Most recently, I added a bag of colored pens, but for a long time, it was just my black uni-ball and the big brown book. Sometimes He’ll give me a scripture, and sometimes He’ll have me start with a color or image. I found that it really all depends on what He’s wanting to teach me. If we start with a scripture, I read it in context and then several translations. I try to understand what was going on, what has happened, and why something was said. Many times, I will need Him to clarify what I think I’m seeing. I’ll ask if I’m hearing or seeing correctly and then give Him time to respond. I’ve come to realize that these times are more for me than for anybody else. Sitting at His feet like Mary has become one of my favorite spaces.

Of course, sometimes, even after we’ve done our part to prepare, the Lord throws a curve ball by having someone else deliver the message. Partway through a painting, He sometimes seems to move in a completely different direction. He can do that because He’s God and knows exactly what’s needed at that moment. I’ve come to understand that time spent listening for the Father’s heart is never wasted.

For example, we were getting down to the wire, the night before I was to paint, and I had butkus – nothing. So, I said, “Okay Lord, we’re getting down to the wire here, and I’m getting a little nervous. What is it you’re trying to say”? He responded with, “FREEDOM”. To which I responded, “Whaaat, how do you paint freedom?” All that was coming to mind was the American flag or fireworks, but those don’t symbolize freedom to everyone.

Knowing that the first part of the process is for me, and that God can transcend language and culture if I’ll let Him, I Googled…Pictures of Freedom. Your typical banners and flags came up but tucked somewhere in the middle was a picture of a man running out of a tomb, grave clothes flying off of Him. What an amazing image. So, I sketched the image onto my canvas, and off I went to release FREEDOM during worship.

Normally, we have about an hour to release what we feel God has asked us to paint. I don’t remember much about painting this particular image except that I was completely terrified the entire time and asked the Holy Spirit for direction every step of the way. From color combinations to which brushes to use; I was completely dependent upon him. You see, I always told myself I don’t do people – meaning I can’t paint people and I should never try. To my fright, our pastor cut worship short by about 15 minutes, but somehow, I managed to finish, what I thought were a lot of random brush strokes. As I stepped back, I was amazed to see that it actually looked good. I had been tied to the Holy Spirit the whole time, hanging on His every Word. I had never done anything like this before!

Immediately after worship, a man came running up to me shouting, “You just painted my life on a canvas!” You see this was the last day of a week-long visit for him. The following morning, he took His love letter from his heavenly Father with him back to Michigan. In that moment, all fear left me as I realized that God has just used me to communicate His heart to his son. You can’t make this stuff up. God is so amazing! I am still stunned at how He can use me to speak His heart to His children if I come to Him with an open hand and a willing heart.