It’s Time

brown wooden framed hour glass
Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

“It’s Time.”

As clear as day, I heard those words this morning.

“Time? Time for what?”

I think this means that it is time for me to create.

I am floundering. I have a picture in my head of a canvas painted red and that is all I’ve got. I came over to the studio this morning to put this in action. I was hedging, not trusting the leading of those words I heard. I chose a used canvas and suboptimal paints. I had always wanted to try ‘paint pouring’ so that is where I began…The experiment was not really successful, at least not from my ‘vision’ perspective. The creation did not look like what was in my head.

 The choices I made, the used canvas, the substitute ingredients, reflected my lack of trust in my creative heavenly Father. Why not go ‘ALL IN”? I did not, because I was afraid. Afraid of failure, perhaps? Did not want to waste the good stuff? Not really believing that God would help me? I don’t know. All I know now is that I am sitting in this studio with a feeling I am supposed to be creating ‘something’ and I don’t know what or which way to turn.

gray and black artwork
Pexels.com

I have SO much! I have fresh clay to spin and form. I have fabric and patterns and a quilt to make. I have a loom with a weaving begun. I have some beautiful brand new canvases. I have paper and pencils and paint… and I am frozen.

It’s time to wait, again.

‘AGAIN, Lord!!??’

‘Yes, Betsy. Time to wait before Me and let ME lead. Not you in the lead.”

It has taken me quite a long while to return to this studio. I used to love it here. I could get lost for hours. The last time I worked in here, I had a fight with my mom. It left a bad taste in my mouth. But the stopping was before that. Something interrupted the creativity, that reverie, and I am not really certain what that was.

My comfort is always in the ‘doing’ of things. I can work for hours at backbreaking labor in the yard or house and am as content as can be. I used to tend my family and work to the end of myself. The comfort is safe and does not require me to stop and listen, or at least it didn’t. I knew what was required and I did it. But that was the before.

Now…here I am, on the verge of newness and I am as a child. I am needing a hand and a gentle guide. I need someone to TELL me what to do. I am lost without the severe routine. The struggle is real. I wrestle, and toss and turn. I sigh. Then I jump up and go ‘do’ a chore. Then I hear that voice saying, “you need to stop’. UGH!

Maybe, God is trying to show me what the ‘something’ was that stopped the flow. Maybe this is a new start? I don’t know yet.

 I just know that, “It’s time.”

"They that wait upon the Lord, shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31

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