A Celebration of Easter – “Risen”

Good Friday and Easter Day!

As a child, I was perplexed by the name “Good Friday.” Wasn’t it the day that acknowledges Jesus’ death? Jesus, who was sinless and pure, who deserved no death, but who chose it? Now I grasp how good this day really is. It’s a day that represents the death of our separation from God. Our sin separated us from our loving Creator, and Jesus’ death bridged that gap. We couldn’t do it on our own.

The miracle and power of this weekend, however, lies in Jesus’ resurrection, which we celebrate on Sunday! Had Christ remained on the cross, we would still be lost. But he didn’t. Jesus was buried, but rose to life on Sunday, and showed himself to over 500 witnesses before ascending to heaven. Amazing!

I completed a painting last year which embodies the spirit of Easter, entitled “Risen.” An empty cocoon hangs off of one side of the cross, and on the other side, a butterfly ascends toward heaven. It is red and white, symbolizing both the purity of Christ and the blood which has saved us. This Easter weekend, don’t let the miracle of Christ’s resurrection pass you by. “It is Finished” changed everything.

This painting is available as a print here.

Becoming artwork when I expire…

Last night, my husband and I had a much-needed “Veg Fest.” If you know us well, you know we work hard and play hard, but rarely just veg! So we caught some of a new TV series called “Three Rivers.” It’s on CBS, and it focuses on a medical team that harvests organs from gracious donors who have passed, and find “homes” for them in very sick and needy patients, some of whom have been waiting for a long time. I enjoyed it, and it sparked some discussion between Nate and I.

I’ve had the organ donor box checked on my driver’s license since I was 16, and I’ve always thought I wanted everything possible to be donated except for my skin and eyes. Many people don’t even know that these can be donated, and I’ve kind of thought of it as “icky.” However, donating these organs would make a world of difference in the lives of a blind person or burn victim, so I’ve given it some more thought. Now, if you’re on top of things, you’re realizing that this extensive donation could make for an unsightly open casket. Enter my next preference: cremation.

Now, before you start thinking this will be a morbid blog post, be assured that you’re probably going to laugh very soon .

Cremation… the alternative to slowly becoming worm food over the course of many years. I’m rather fond of it. But, what do your loved ones DO with your remains? There’s the sprinkling into the ocean, off of a mountainside, and resting in the somewhat typical urn on the mantle which could be creepy for your home’s visitors or housekeeper.

I want something different. I am an artist. When I die and become ashes, I’d like to become art. (What?)

“Mine For A Moment”

In the fall of 2008, while I was planning my wedding, a strong, courageous friend of mine was fighting for his life.

At age 34, Daniel Smith was vibrant, healthy, and full of promise. He was finishing medical school and running more marathons than I could count. He seemed to have his whole life ahead of him. On October 22, Daniel lost his 6-month long battle against squamous cell oral cancer.

I heard the news after coming back from my honeymoon. I know I cannot adequately describe how this news affected me, but I will try:

I experienced deep sadness, sympathy for his family and the painful sting of loss, all of which is to be expected. What I did not expect was to be confronted with the fear that Nate could be taken from me in a similar way.

Life was now fragile and unpredictable….fleeting. Of course, it always has been, but now I had this new person in my life that I wanted to hold on to so tightly.

For days, I considered the possibility of losing Nate. How would I be able to go on without this amazing man in my life? But this couldn’t really happen, could it? After all, God had given him to me; wasn’t that a guarantee that my next 50 years would be wonderful?

As naïve as that sounds, it really is how I felt. The evening I heard about Daniel’s passing, I was struggling to balance loving fiercely with a willingness to let go. Then something happened that I can only attribute to God’s leading.