Celebrating Resurrection Sunday with a solemn worship service at dawn—followed by a fellowship breakfast, then a painting session—has been a tradition in our church for a few years.
The art session is usually done on one side of the church’s sprawling lawn. About 50 children, men, and women participate—the rest walk around chatting, gawking and gushing over the progress of each canvas. Many (or all) of us are amateurs who probably touch brush and canvas only this one day of the year.
But it is always an exhilarating experience. We try to replicate God’s creation the way we individually see it, and in our own minds, we are successful.
This one’s mine this year. I didn’t do it with the group as I forgot my apron at home (I am a sloppy "painter"), but I took the rest of the day romancing it at my painting space by our terrace. It’s a futile attempt at abstract painting and a stubborn fascination with flowers and butterfly.
But ah, many of those who behold it say, “Wow!” My husband says, “. . .”
So, yeah, I’ll take the “Wow!” Thank you.
The “Wow!” rightfully belongs to the original flowers and butterflies created by the One Who resurrected three days after dying on the cross for us, but His grace allows me to borrow it once a year.
Wow, it was a joyful Sunday!
"He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Remember what he told you back in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be betrayed into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and that he would rise again on the third day.” Luke 24:6-7 (NLT)