A Rose for Rose, Grace for Grace

As soon as she saw my latest painting, Rose gasped and purred, “Please paint me a rainbow with musical notes." Music is an integral part of her—a singer, composer, instrumentalist, choir conductress, and lyricist rolled-into-one.

I promised I'd do one in time for her birthday.  
 
But because of the international hoo-ha on the legalized same-sex marriage, which made the rainbow a seal of approval for LGBT, I demurred days later, “I can’t paint you a rainbow; not now anyway.”

Recovering quickly she said, “Okay can you paint me a rose instead?" 

“Well . . .okay." 

Then I got immersed in book concerns. Her birthday came and went. But a promise is a promise, so I sidelined writing for two full days last week and painted her a rose—with a butterfly, in keeping with my themed  series.  

  

I wanted her musical notes to be there, and it took a while before I could figure out where to put them. 

Aside from Rose, one other colleague, Ayet, wished aloud for a painting as a birthday gift, too.

(Let me stress one more time, I paint for refreshment and have no delusions about being a Da Vinci or any artist of consequence. But two biased friends think I am: Rose and Ayet. How can I refuse?)

Ayet’s birthday isn’t till next month, but while painting Rose’s rose, my now-paint-bespattered hands and arms drove me to paint Ayet’s, too.

After my acrylics have dried, I placed each on a faux easel, wrapped both, and handed one after the other in our faculty room.

Their shrieks of delight and unabashed excitement to pose with the paintings stunned me. And I realized that the whole process—from promising, to doing and giving—was a string of invigorating grace, of which I was the receiver.

"And of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace.” John 1:16