Paint

Paint.

"Mom, wouldn't it be cool if God came down here to be an artist?"

That was a random comment my son made one day this summer.  Not sure where things like that come from for him, but it led to a great discussion for us.

"Don't you think God is an artist already?  Don't you see His beauty all around us?"

He paints the oranges, golds, and crimson reds into the autumn leaves.  With a stroke of brilliance, he lights trees on fire in glorious color.

He paints the wispy white puffs of smoke coming off the Smoky Mountains that we saw on vacation.

He paints flowers with gorgeous breaths of color.

He paints the intricate details on a butterfly's wings.

He paints the blues of the ocean and the sky.

He paints the sunrise with a promise of freshness and joy each day.  He does it again each night as a way to assure us that He has more in store for us the next day.

He paints the stars in the sky, more numerous than anyone could ever count...and He calls each one by name.

He paints you and me.  He knit each together perfectly in his mother's womb.  We are perfectly and wonderfully made.

With the cross, He paints a perfect picture of redemption and grace.  He paints our future, giving us hope.  

He paints an eagle swooping across the sky.  He reminds us that He can carry us when we are weak.  He will not grow weary or faint.  

He paints breathtaking rainbows, with the promise that He cares for us and He has not forgotten us.

All I have to do is open my eyes, and I see God's brush strokes all around us.