Canvas Inner Beauty Poem

by Jessica Nevergall
(Findlay, Ohio)

We are on a journey. A journey of hope. A journey of disappointment. One that questions the pure existence of present circumstances. One that praises life and rebukes it in the same breath. An ever-changing mood from satisfaction to longing. This is the journey I am on. To be part of it is scary. To run from it means I am scared. Both circumstances seem extreme. Is there a balance? If you are satisfied do you become complacent? If you continue to long, will you ever be content? How do you run without looking back? How do you sit without looking forward? Is it possible to experience these emotions in the same day without questioning where you’re going or where you’ve been? Is this growth of lack of faith? How does one find wholeness with raging thoughts ever present? “Like iron sharpens iron”… Is this where others come into action? “Lean not on your own understanding”… Is this when faith steps in?

As questions loom, I still feel my joy is complete. Why, because the journey of questioning will never overshadow the realness of Christ. His completeness will always compensate for my weakness. His love is stronger than my fears. His grasp is greater than my understanding. Even when my journey feels incomplete, He is completing me. The Author is at work. Redefining who I am. Taking what I’ve become and molding me into a masterpiece. A piece of artwork. A peace that is beautiful to the creator, but still leaves others wondering. Just like any good art, no one knows the emotions and love that were poured into the piece. People wonder what defined the art. What was the artist thinking and feeling? Why did he choose those colors? Why did he pick that texture? Did he finish the project before starting another? Was he satisfied with his creation?

My life is like this piece of art. No one feeling, emotion, or event has shaped me. No simple circumstance has painted my image. I am the work of the Master Artist. A piece of canvas always being painted. The colors, life, and depth are ever-changing. The scenery is never the same. The picture is always new. You may see me one day and question what my artist is doing, “What imperfection you may think!” Then the next, you may be in awe of His talent. You may wonder when I will be complete, but I beg you not to judge the artist by the piece alone. He is perfect, even on days my canvas reflects the opposite. He is working long hours to create this artwork. No one knows the day it will be finished, but when He draws the final stroke…. I will draw my final breath and the masterpiece will be complete. (Dec. 18, 2007)

Mosaic

Tiny broken pieces
Shattered on the floor
An obvious mess
To those who don’t adore

But an artist would see
These pieces are not wasted
Instead they are waiting
To be recreated

Into something new
Never like the past
A piece of artwork
That will last

Because this time
It is grounded
In a new kind of love
The fine tuning of the artist above

He sees each broken piece
And sifts through them like sand
Then fashions a mosaic
And holds it in His hand

He shows it to those around
Proud of His design
Knowing what was once broken
Will now be cherished for all time.

Jessica Nevergall
January 1, 2007