Darkness

Today, my 4-year old reminded me that last December (her memory is a thing of miracles) I bought silly putty for another child -not her. And she was sad.
And she's still sad.
So shouldn't we go to the store NOW?  And buy her some NOW?

Sadness must be chased away, right?  It feels unnatural.  And so it is, maybe, to us when we are brand new and heaven-fresh.  But part of being mortal is feeling sad.
What do we do with sadness?
Chase it?  Keep it?
I chose Door #3: Have it in for a cuppa and observe it.  Ask it stuff.  Like why? Why are you here?  And why are you so big right now?  And do you have something to show me?  Teach me?

So I like books.
And in one of the finest works of Literature to ever come out of the bravery of the Bronte minds is a line from Jane Eyre.  Jane Eyre is teaching her pupil how to pencil sketch and simply says, "Remember, the shadows are as important as the light."

The line sticks like glue to my veins.

By nature, I am bubbly and light.  My home décor is full of pops of bright color -so is my closet.  I open windows always.  We just bought a car with a sun roof and I feel like I was just born.
Life can really begin now that sunlight can filter into my car, f'real.

I used to chase sadness away with movies and food and gossip because in my light-hearted and sun-filled soul, sadness = wrongness.

But my light-hearted and sun-filled soul now realizes that the brilliance in the sun and light only comes BECAUSE of the darkness and sadness.  They are equal partners.  My bright colors wouldn't pop without darkness to contrast.  Darkness deserves reverence.

So I like art.
There's been a few pieces of Christian art that have punched through my feelings and left me with a deep sense of longing.  I want them in my house sooner than later.
But they are dark.
DARK.
That used to be a deal-breaker for me, but now?  The darkness in these paintings is just as important as the light that emanates from the window over my kitchen sink.

The first one is "Worlds Without End" by Greg Olsen.  The first time I saw this painting, I felt some deep resistance, but the more I sat with it, the more I felt a deep attraction to the stillness.

This second picture is also by Greg Olsen and something of a companion to "Worlds without End" and depicts a younger Jesus with his mother, Mary.  It is titled, "For Just a Moment."

Third (and last) is this beautifully dark piece by Liz Lemon Swindle titled, "Against the Wind."  I can't stop looking at Christ's hands, His wet robes, His strength, His surety.

The shadows are as important as the light.
The sadness is as important as the happiness.
The night is as important as the day.
Each and all deserve equal reverence.