Lily was here. That’s what she wrote, with her finger, in the sugar-like sand of the west Florida beach. And she sat there, doodling, for a couple of hours. Alone, with only her trepidation. Yeah, that was the word. She remembered when she first heard that word. Back in high school. “That’s me, alright,” she thought.
Miss Trepidation. Some might call it butterflies. Others have described it as jitteriness, a blue funk, or the heebie-jeebies. Lily had even heard her feelings described as the willies and plain ol’ cold feet. But she figured Miss Trepidation sounded almost dignified. She even said it out loud, with a British accent. Jolly good.
But let’s step back a little to see why Lily was here on this beach.
She had always loved to paint. And she often said the feel of a brush against canvas was “her sanctuary.” But, in the past couple of years, self-doubt had sneaked in behind her back.
Truth be known (as it rarely is), a harsh review from an art critic had shattered her confidence. After that, she only painted in isolation. And none of her wonderful paintings saw the light of day, so to speak.
But about a week before this solo trip to the beach an old friend, who loved Lily’s art, called to invite her to feature her paintings in a local gallery showcase. And Lily felt her face flush from just the thought of it.
She asked for a couple of days to think it over. And her friend said the show was in two weeks, so she’d check back in three days if she hadn’t gotten a call by then.
So, Lily was here on this beach to think of the best way to bow out.
But somewhere, in the halls of her memories, she heard her high school art teacher’s voice. Ms Robertson often said, “Art is not about perfection; it’s about expression.” And she also said, “The only critic who matters is YOU.” Those words hit her like a a splash of ice cold water.
(Cue Bonnie Tyler singing “I Need A Hero”)
Lily stood up, dusted off the sand, and trotted back to her car. On the way home, she called her friend to say she’d be ready for the showcase no matter what. And her friend was thrilled.
Then, Lily gave herself a bold goal.
She decided to complete ten brand new paintings for the showcase. Go big or stay home. Right?
Her first work was a frustrating mess. But she refused to let is stop her. Because she got those brushstrokes on the canvas took her back to “her sanctuary.” And she poured her soul onto the canvases. With a couple of works completed she figured out her theme. And that increased her passion to meet her goal.
Longer story somewhat shorter? Lily DID complete the ten paintings. But on the way to the gallery, Mr. Anxiety jumped in the car with her and sneeringly asked, “What if no one likes your paintings?”
Fortunately Ms Robertson’s voice, “Paint for you, first. The rest will take care of itself.”
So, Lily made it to the gallery early. And her friend helped her set up her ten newly finished paintings, and she raved about each one as the removed them from their cases. “They’re beautiful, Lily. This will be awesome.”
Sure enough, as visitors mingled around the gallery, Lily heard lots of whispered praises for her paintings. And for the first time, in a long time, she felt totally connected to her childhood dream of being an artist.
Yeah, there’s nothing like the power of perseverance.
Lily learned that’s how you build courage and strength to face life and brush off doubt and fear.
And, as the song that bears her DNA says:
But the morning sun will shine,
And so, I’ll draw another line.
I’ll keep a box of all my most important things
Inside my heart where they can be
A constant song of joy to me.
I love the sound of optimism when it sings.
Maybe you don’t know me well enough to buy something from me, yet. Ok, then get to know more about me and my worldview. Join the growing body of believers who’ve signed up for the FunderFlash Journal. And enjoy my daily flashes of light from the power of God’s love.
Stay tuned…
