I’ve just returned home from the Easter services at my church. It’s been about a year and a half since I first started attending Calvary Los Gatos and I must say that I definitely enjoy it. Over the past few months, I’ve become even more involved and have actually helped with some of the “dramatic” aspects of the services. Once again I was asked to come in and provide some comic relief. I’m glad I did.
No–not because the service is boring or anything like that (I believe Calvary is pretty far from that extreme), but rather because it meant that I got to show up a bit earlier and hang out “backstage.” Today, this was super cool.
The pastor of my church decided he wanted to do a “Punctured Picasso” message for Easter Sunday (based in part on the real life “oops” moment of Steve Wynn). To help illustrate (no pun intended) part of the masterpiece idea, he invited an artist to paint on stage while he shared his message.
That artist’s name: Thomas Kinkade.
It’s pretty tough these days not to see one of the amazing works of Mr Kinkade. I’ve visited several galleries, see his work in poster shops, purchased Hallmark greeting cards with the images, found books of poetry or thought for a day collections adorned with his unique style and mastery of light.
Since Mr. Kinkade didn’t have to be on stage until the actual message (and was a bit of a surprise for the rest of the congregation) and since my comedic skit was a bit into the service as well, I actually had about 10 minutes or so each service to visit with him.
During the first service I inquired about his process. At each service he painted for 30 minutes and created something astounding, but for one of his regular paintings in takes him “hundreds of hours.” For him, it’s about getting in those small details–that extra cobblestone. Even during the service, I could watch him return to a cloud to add one extra touch of light. I was struck by the detail and his desire for it. The fact that he could stand at one canvas for that long to make something so beautiful. He told me how he gets the ideas to paint–today he woke up and was thinking about the sunrise. He payed attention to the colors.
He looked at the sunrise and thought about the colors.
I started wondering about my own approach to life–how often I try to rush past the detail or gloss over it. How sometimes I’m more worried about just finishing then actually doing my best or how rarely I actually stop to look at the “colors” around me. I started wondering what my “canvas” would look like if I actually spent hundreds of hours paying attention to the light.
Then again, doubt replayed its song, and I started remember how my sister Mary is the super talented artist in my family–not me. Yes, even though I could get the metaphorical aspect of his technique, I still was a bit saddened that I couldn’t paint–that I wasn’t talented.
Then during the second service as I stepped off the stage after finishing up the message portion of my skit, I ran into Mr. Kinkade again.
“That was great. You are really talented.”
He was talking. Not me.
World-renowned painter Thomas Kinkade stopped to talk to me about how he enjoyed what I do.
Even though I talk about it on a regular basis, I sometimes also need the reminders as well. We all bring something unique to the table. We all have our own unique talent, skill, and/or gift. For Thomas Kinkade, it’s ability to capture how light shines on our world and can warm a winter wonderland or provide the brilliant backdrop for a profound moment in time.
Today, I challenge all of you to renew that masterpiece. Mr. Kinkade talked about how today he was “just blocking it in…” His painting today isn’t over, and neither are your own journeys. Recognize your gift and share it with others.
If you play music, provide that symphony
If you write, share your words
If you are athletic, run for the world
If you are technical, create that technology that makes life easier
If you are a friend, provide that smile or ear
So far, we’ve just done some light painting, now it’s time to work in those details.
Happy Easter everyone