At the moment I am painting. My canvas are the walls of my room. It is at times frustrating but I hope to see the benefit of the effort when it is finished. To be honest I am not loving enamel paint and how hard it is to get off your skin. Also challenging is getting rid of those fibers of love from the three pets that, somehow every night, find their way to my room.
I do actually quite enjoy painting and I have been looking forward to the labour. To do something and see the impact straight away. So often what I do may or may not bear fruit, but I have to trust that it may occur and it is likely I will never know. Such is the way of teaching. I have to have faith that what I do matters in some small way. I think as humans we like to work, to do ‘stuff’ that we believe makes a positive difference, no matter how small, that the tiny drop of self we plop into the great pool of everything somehow is needed.
In my painting I chose to do a feature wall. I’m actually happy with how that turned out – except for one tiny bit near the electrical point where I just didn’t have the tape in the right spot and the colour I painted over shows through. It’s a bit like the canvas of life. We paint over and make change, but that glimmer of what once was seems to always be there as a reminder. And that is ok. If I think of the underlying messages inherent in the gospel narratives I see the motif of forgiveness and acceptance, that what once was shapes us but does not define us.
We need to choose our colours and paint to the best of our ability and to rejoice in the fruits of our labours.
The Female Theologian 