living for love

"Live for Me", he says. But what is this except for an excuse? He wants my life to be something to be happy about. He wants my heart to be held in his hands, and filled and given to others unconditionally- that's charity right? Who am I, but the dust of the earth- blowing hither and thither to the commands of nature and the wind- until he gives me the opportunity to choose to love him back. How blessed am I with options- how blessed am I to be able to see far off and hear him speak. He gave his life for mine. Not quite a fair trade. I'm just me, and He's only a God. He takes my imperfection and makes beauty. I take his perfection and try to make something out of it, that maybe a 3 yr old would call art. I'm just a finger painter with no skill, and he's a highly trained artist with a heart full of inpiration. He builds each day with his light showing things to us that most people never see, like the golden kisses from a setting sun, on tall tree tops in the park. How are we so lucky? How are we so ignorantly taken care of?

When God gave me this canvas to paint on. I ignored it. When I realized what it was, I embraced it. with a moment of thought and not of creation I pulled away and noticed that my lines were too broad and my moments were too close together. I noticed that I had used far too much dark color than light. I noticed that the perspective was dimmer than it should be. So now I have to let it dry, and come back and hopefully paint a lovers hue. I have to mold the colors behind to be something of a shadow of the greatness that will be before it.