Art, Children, Worship



“Beauty is there to be noticed. Too often it is taken for granted because we are moving too fast to let it in and allow it to deliver its message in us. We need to pay attention. To show indifference to beauty is an insult to its Creator.” (90) Luci Shaw Beauty And The Creative Impulse


She’s swirling blues and greens together with the tip of her brush. The excess water causes pigments to run and bleed into each other at the edges. One color takes on the hues of the other and they are no longer two colors, but one. One vibrant shade of peacock teal, a color I have grown to love in recent years. This color reminds me of my Grandmother, and of my own Mother, and if I lived within it’s borders, this rich blue-green would be home.


She gives up the paintbrush in favor of getting her fingers right in to it. Her finger tips will bare shadows of this vibrant shade for the next two days but I don’t stop her. I know what it is to want to rub hands directly onto the art, to pull the colors straight through to the tips of my fingers.

She puts her fingerprints all over the page.

I love the way she expresses what’s inside, on the outside.

Her peeked cheeks flush with the thrill of color filling the page, beauty created out of nothing. We were made for these things, this melding of colors, for the blue and green days— He shines through us, this magnificent Creator of color and when we streak it bright and messy on paper, we experience a fraction of the thrill of creating.



She paints like a wild Pollock protege, her entire body whirling in the chair, and I can’t stop thinking about the peacock-teals that filled that old gravel roofed house in  South Miami, the teal (Teal!) metal cabinets that I remember in the kitchen with the toille wallpaper- my baby’s swirling paint and I am back in time, in a kitchen with black flecked floors looking out over a half circle drive, shaded by old Oaks and spanish moss.

I’m lost, wandering the watery ways of my memory, one thought, one image, bleeds steady into the next until it’s all just a huddle of color.

She’s rubbing her fingers together, enjoying the feeling of slippery pigments as they seep into each crevasse and fold of her hands.  This is how we live life. This is our art.

We submerge our whole selves into these moments and we watch with fascination, as the colors bleed and mingle–

And a new color emerges.

This post is shared with L.L.Barkat
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And with Laura Boggess,


  1. So lovely, I’m growing to love shades of teal, robin’s egg blue, pale green. That’s something new, I’ve always been a red girl! How gracious of God to invite us to create, to reflect his nature and enter in!

    1. Anonymous

      Yes, Beck, isn’t it awesome how God has invited us into this place of being able to share in the thrill of creating… the thrill of art, and creative expression. I struggle to call myself an artist but at some level, I think we all must be. Our lives as our stories… it is a gift I know I take for granted too often.

  2. Carol Lopez

    Teal, Peacock, Jade, Emerald  gift from an artistic talent, and bequeathed to daughter, grandaughters, and great-grandaughters.  How thrilled she would be that you remembered and love the shades that were her favorite colors.  She wrote poetry, and passed that gift on to her daughter and grandaughter.  Despite the emotional problems and pain that tormented  her, the colors were her anchor and a link to her unrealized dreams.  Who knows perhaps Elizabeth (Libby) was was being used as a mentor for those who wouold follow and continue her legacy and  of  beauty and talent.  Born 94 years ago on Valentines Day, I am sure she sends her love and blessings to you and her great- grandaughters, as they color their world  in  Teal and Peacock  blue.
    Thank you for sharing a memory that means so much to me.   Love you so much. 

    1. alwaysalleluia

      Aunt Carol. I am so blessed by your words here. I have no doubt that despite her innner turmoil Libby lived a life of purpose, and she certainly tried hard to foster her love of all things “bright and beautiful” in us. I often reflect on the art books and supplies she gifted us, year after year. I know as children we often took those things for granted, but really, she instilled in us an appreciation for things even subconciously, that I am only able to begin to see now, as an adult. We were created to create, whether we do it through song, or words, or paintings, or dance, our lives tell the story, and as I raise my own children, I pray their story always and ever points to the One who made them. God has given us such a gift to allow us to share in His joy of creation. I pray it is not long before we can see you again! Love you and miss you so much!


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