...before and afters

I Cor 11:1 Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.


To me, this has always been a gutsy statement.  Am I following Christ enough to be able to say, "Hey, follow me and my example," and then know that I'll be leading someone toward Christ?

The older I get, the less qualified I feel.

But God...

God sees the unfinished me, and doesn't worry.  He loves "before and after" scenarios more than I do.

The corner "before"

The corner "after"

Any renovation or creation has ugly stages that are required to create an "after".

 When I paint, there are ugly stages. But that first blob of paint squirted on my palette is always so exciting.  It's like jumping off the high dive for the first swim of the summer. 

And this one (still in progress) is my first effort at a "flip off the board."  I've never done anything remotely like this.  I'm designing dresses, outfits, and painting them.  A portrait of a dress.  Weird, but I'm totally loving this!  Being set free in this thing that is totally me with God.  It's like bringing your first child home and thinking, "Oh, my word!  I love you so!  God, please help me not botch this!"

My friend, Lisa, dared me to blog the process - to let you come with me.  Yikes!!!  I typically hold my cards close until I can play a winning hand.  Actually, I don't even like to play cards, much less do I gamble so that's an absurd word picture for me to use for myself.  But you get the point, right?  LOL  But seriously, why would I let you in when I'm trying to paint bravely - try new things - learn to make mistakes so that I can learn?  It's gonna get ugly.    It may take a really long time.  You'll have to just be patient.

Why would I show you that?  Why take this dare? 

Honestly, I have no idea.  I'm just excited to try.  So here we go.

This will be a fall outfit.  I picture a girl walking in a park in New York City on one of those early Fall days around 3:30 or 4:00 in the afternoon when the sun starts to filter through the leaves just beginning to turn.

She's wearing a suede skirt and a tank with a sheer overlay blouse.  Soft boots.

So here we go:

I'm trying to create the texture of suede.  I have no idea how to do this.  The blobs on the right are experiments on a piece of canvas board.

In the meantime, I begin to block in colors.

What color do you think this outfit is?  Brown.   A bit of burgundy?  Actually, it's a watercolor wash of tranparent greens, yellows and fall toned blues.  I know you can't see that.  That's OK.  I can.

At this stage, much as I want to just keep painting, it's important to just leave it alone until this step dries.  (Sometimes, I feel left alone in a drab brown stage.  But God's not done with me yet.  He sees something.)

Then I start to mix.  And pounce.  Yes pounce.  If you were to watch, you'd think I was attacking the poor canvas, but that's how it works.  The brush is soft and the canvas is resilient.

Soon, the visual texture of suede appears.  But I want more this time.  I want real texture, not just the appearance of texture.

Now.  I feel like I'm failing at this point.  As I said, I don't know what I'm doing.  But I decided going in that I would make mistakes in order to learn.

How do I get texture?  Brush?  Not enough.  Glob on paint. Too glumpy for raw suede.

Sand?  It would have to be very fine.  Not anything I can grab from the driveway.  Salt?  It would melt.

So I decide to sacrifice some of my Gulf Coast white sand that I carefully treasure in a jar.  This sand is from the beach where God always talks to me.  He seems to take me there when I'm in the middle of crisis.  Long walks sooth me and there's always "a thin place",

as Robert Whitlow calls it, where the barrier between the heavenlies and me is not so impenetrable.

I grew up there, in so very many ways.  I'm always a child there, in so very many ways.

It's really an emotional moment to sacrifice some of my precious sand to an experiment - what might fail.  I take the canvas and lay it flat.  I paint over what I'd already done even though it was pretty, which is in itself a bit painful.  Did I fail?  No.  Not in the long haul.  I keep telling myself, "I'm just learning.  It's OK not to get it right the first time.  It's OK to paint over something pretty to get something better."

 I sprinkle sand on the wet paint and I work it in.  "Now, what?  Do I let it dry first or start working it?  If it fails, I guess I can just sand it off..."

As the paint mixes with the sand, it begins to make the texture I'm looking for.  See it at the top?

And I'm excited!  Lots of tears fell into that sand, and now it's becoming part of something joyful!

"Who in their right mind would throw sand on a beautiful white canvas?"  I can hear hear the critic...
Insecurities chat.  Memories flood in and threaten to make me feel like a failure.  "Who am I to think I can figure this out?  I'm not an artist.  I always quit before I really finish."

Let me tell you a story.

I was once painting my bedroom wall.  The bottom layer was a very intense blue, but very little of it would show once I was done.  A critic came in and said, "That blue is way too bold.  You won't like it."  I replied, "It's not finished."  I tried to explain that it was a lot like a cake.  If you tasted the eggs and flour before they were mixed with the sugar and baked, you'd say it wasn't any good.  She continued to tell me why the blue was wrong, even though it was chosen by me for my own bedroom.  It became comical... and frustrating.

And you know what?  She stumped me.  Even though I knew she was wrong, I let her opinion of the wall soak in as an opinion of me.  I should have just trusted my gut, but instead, it took me months to process that.  But God....   In the end, I was able to finish.  And I loved it.  After I finished my original vision with 3 layers and a wash over all, the same critic came in an said, "Oh this is a much better color than that blue you had the first time."  I said, "It's the same blue.  It's just finished."  She argued again.  "No it's not.  That blue was garish.  This is soft and airy."   I tried to tell her, "It's just what I said before.  You just couldn't see it because I hadn't added all the layers."  She refused to agree, even though I was the creator and knew every bit of what I had created.  Still, I was glad she liked my end result.  Perhaps her opinion mattered too much.  But she mattered to me and I was unable to separate them at the time.

Here's another story.

I was sketching a mural on the wall in an interior decorator's home.  She's AMAZINGLY GIFTED.  I asked her, "What's the hardest thing for you to do with your clients?"  She thought and then said, "Layers."  I smiled.  She continued.  "They come in when it's half done and say, 'That's too much green,' and I say, 'Just wait until the cushions are done and the curtains are up.  It will all make sense once all the layers are on.'  And when they see the final product, they're thrilled."

My friend left for a couple of hours in which time I had finished sketching and had begun to paint what would eventually be an English country pastel landscape.  She walked in to check on my progress.  She exclaimed, "It's black!!!"  I laughed and simply said, "Layers."  She busted out laughing and said, "I can't believe I even said that."

One last example.

When people came through the family room and saw my canvas at this point,

 lots of them said, "Oh, I love your pink dress!"

I'd give a mischievous grin and say, "It's actually white."  Then I'd explain what I had in mind.  Do I blame them for not seeing a white dress?  Of course not!

This dress took over a year of emotional processing.  For days, I'd just stare at.  So afraid to finish in case it should turn out horribly.  But finally, I just kept painting.

Trying things I've never done, like opalescent glaze.

Diving into the details and overcoming my fears.

God began to show me that much of what I don't like about what He's doing - when I feel ugly and left alone - is actually part of something beautiful.  What is underneath is crucial, and beautiful to Him, even if it seems opposite to what I dream of becoming.

Artists and dreamers know that there are ugly stages.  There could even be those who would argue the dress should stay pink.  If the pink stage was able to wake up a dream in the critic for them to hold on to, then YAY!  But this dress is my dream - and it was meant to be white.

The critics may disagree, but in the end it's my dream, and I get to choose.  As an artist, I'm learning that it's really OK for someone not to like what I do. 

If they look at this dress without knowing the self portrait story behind it, they can think what they will.  But they'll be off the mark.  It hurts all the same, but I have to let choose what they think.

If they walk in on me at the pink or brown stage, can I blame them for not being able to see a white dress or a sheer watercolor print blouse?  Of course, not!  Maybe they need a pink dress in their dreams.  If my work doesn't fit their dreams, I'll just have to learn to let that be.

But me?  I needed this particular white dress. 

So, I'll just smile - and keep painting - and think, "Layers."



©2015 Lydia D. Crouch

...whew!

I don't know what just happened, but between this post and the last one I got to remodel the family room with my husband and kids' full blessing.  I started a new painting while talking on the phone long distance to a best-ever friend.  We took a two night trip with just the six of us (the only way we could manage a meal together this crazy summer) to Leavenworth.  I hugged my dear friend Hope goodbye... back to China she goes.  We took Davis back to college in Canada.  Rich started his new year.  Laina is back in school

Note the little image of Laina in pigtails behind her.  Not intentional on my part but treasured.

and already made a new friend who's into music, drama and loves God.  I helped throw a wedding shower last night and SOMEWHERE in there managed to wash our sheets.

Whew!

Today at 10:00, I promised myself I'd start painting.  The dishes will have to wait and any deep blogging as well.

But Lisa said, you should blog your progress as you paint.  She was actually asking me to teach people how to do what I do, but I can't.  I've tried.  But I already felt compelled to blog.

FEARS:

-That people will tell me how to proceed when they can't see the finished result I have already in my head.

        So, maybe please hold advice to your own counsel until I'm done?  I'm too fragile at this emotionally.  These paintings may not be masterpieces, but they are from the most tender part of me.

-That someone will steal my design and profit from it.  I don't know how to copyright a work in progress.

        God has gently reassured me that there are other designs where these came from.  Any theft or imitation will already be passe by the time I'm learning the next thing.

-That I will fail.

      This is a given.  I want to try things I've never done before which means lots of it will fail while I experiment.  That's what trash cans are for... and erasers... and white paint...and forgiveness.

Anyway, it's 9:59 so I'll attach some pics of my new "artuary"  (My art studio corner feels like a sanctuary - thus, artuary.  So many thoughts on worship coming to my little mind as I consider a studio as a place to meet with God.)

Moving the piano to use it as room divider has meant the dear instrument now gets played all the time!

By pairing up IKEA book cases with their table tops, we created a stand up work station!  I ADORE it!

I painted my easel black and am using my grandmother's old sewing machine as a landing area.  I love looking out to the black patio furniture.  Purely accidental.

I used a coffee bag to cover the back of the piano and painted the drawer unit the same color as the walls.  Just a little fun to make it more inviting.

All those tubes of craft paint (bottom shelf) are in washed out salad boxes.  A bit flimsy, but hey, they were free.

So, timidly, I welcome you.  Please don't be offended if I forget you're there for a bit.  Once I get going, I tend to forget everything else.

Here's a little hint of the painting I'm about to start.

Fill your day with thanks!

love,  Lydia C



Designs and blog content   copyright 2015 Lydia D. Crouch

...what's for dinner?

Over 15 years ago, a group of women became friends.  Some of us knew each other from college years but we blended beyond that for a season as moms.

Originally, there were actually five of us in a Bible Study for several years.  But in one year we faced dramatic change.  Moves to Latvia, Oregon, Montana and adoption of 5 kids all at once left me the only one who stayed more or less the same.  I was in shell shock at the sudden loss of proximity.  The loneliness was palpable for several years. 

But - JOY - for this one magical summer evening, three of us got to hang out together! Two families were here from China and Hawaii to check on homes they still own here on the island!  We three girlfriends settled on a night to get together.  Our husbands were out of town or already committed so I wondered what the kids could do together.  I had this idea to let the kids cook supper (all teens now).  Our kids have not been around each other in years, but they share some fabulous early memories that they easily built on.

Oddly, I've been reading about food in I Corinthians.  I've been stuck on this section.  I can so easily turn any mention of food in the Bible into a personal diet issue.  Not the best way to read these passages.  Watching the kids cook made these words pop off the page for me... finally.

23“I have the right to do anything,” you say—but not everything is beneficial. “I have the right to do anything”—but not everything is constructive. 24No one should seek their own good, but the good of others.

25Eat anything sold in the meat market without raising questions of conscience, 26for, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.”^f

27If an unbeliever invites you to a meal and you want to go, eat whatever is put before you without raising questions of conscience. 28But if someone says to you, “This has been offered in sacrifice,” then do not eat it, both for the sake of the one who told you and for the sake of conscience. 29I am referring to the other person’s conscience, not yours. For why is my freedom being judged by another’s conscience? 30If I take part in the meal with thankfulness, why am I denounced because of something I thank God for?

31So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. 32Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks or the church of God— 33even as I try to please everyone in every way. For I am not seeking my own good but the good of many, so that they may be saved.

It struck me that this meal was a pretty fun picture of this passage in some ways.

First, I gave Kevin and Laina my books and let them set the menu.  (Just like God gives me freedom to read anywhere in His word that inspires me.)

There were TONS of options.

At one point they had Cooking Light 5 Ingredient/15 Minute Cookbook (my favorite cookbook), the laptop, the cell phone, my binder and Laina's first childhood cookbook. 

All choices were acceptable.  (Just like my reading basket combined with my laptop, Bible, devotional books, journals, sketch pads...)

They had the right to do anything.  But with beginning cooks, not everything would be beneficial.  They chose a menu that was for the good of others since they'd all be cooking together.

Dijon Pork Chops
Oven Baked Asparagus
Mashed Red Potatoes
Blackberry Cobbler

Had anyone been kosher, they'd obviously not have done pork, but we had a cultural mix that was fine with this menu.

Eat anything sold in the meat market without raising questions of conscience, 26for, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.”^f

Next, the kids picked blackberries while Kevin's mom and I sorted from her storage room to take things to the thrift store, recycling, dump, etc.  This dessert was inspired by the bowl of blackberries my dad dropped by.  He'd picked them before trimming his blackberry bush back.  He can't eat them now, but they were too pretty to waste.  Yum!

Kevin and Laina were born one week apart and have been friends their whole lives.  While they picked, the moms looked at sweet photos in the storage room from their baby days.  Then we'd look at them laughing together outside while picking from Kevin's favorite bush.  (No, all blackberries are not the same... LOL.)

Memories were being added to memories.  

 If an unbeliever invites you to a meal and you want to go, eat whatever is put before you without raising questions of conscience. 28But if someone says to you, “This has been offered in sacrifice,” then do not eat it, both for the sake of the one who told you and for the sake of conscience. 29I am referring to the other person’s conscience, not yours. For why is my freedom being judged by another’s conscience? 30If I take part in the meal with thankfulness, why am I denounced because of something I thank God for?

We, as families, are very like-minded, so the verses about food dedicated to idols didn't apply to our shared meal.  But we are all very aware that as we rub shoulders with other cultures we can have close fellowship, but there is a line that needs to be drawn when it comes to who gets the glory...

Food is food.  But we are responsible to lovingly exhibit that only Jesus Christ is worthy of glory and worship.  Thankfulness is HUGE in the Christian life.  HUGE.  To be truly thankful is not just the fluffy "I feel glad about this" emotion we call being thankful.  It is conscious, directed acknowledgement to someone outside ourselves.  So if, knowing this, we shared in someone's idolatry, it would be like us saying to them, "Yeah, you're on the right track."  29I am referring to the other person’s conscience, not yours.

I'm not really sure how this might happen today...  Maybe if I were to go to a fundraising dinner for a cause that denies Jesus as Lord such as Planned Parenthood?  That food would be dedicated to a lie.  For the sake of all concerned, I shouldn't dine.  Now, I could have a friend who believes in Planned Parenthood.  We could even eat the same menu elsewhere, say in a restaurant, and be fine.  But when the food has been dedicated to a cause, it becomes a different matter...

But back to our teen cook off!

By now it, was 3:00.  The numbers began to grow as we picked up more kids for shopping.

The moms sent money and trusted the kids to take whatever they needed.  We knew they'd most likely make a few rooky mistakes, but that was part of the fun of sending them out together!  

Isn't that just like God?  He gives us all we need and doesn't expect us to be perfect.  He's thrilled if we enjoy doing it together, shopping in His unlimited storehouse of blessings for us?!!!  

Then the fun began!

 Every once in a while, I'd step in to show them where something was that would be beneficial,

 or to teach them a new skill,

 or to encourage them to teach others what they already knew,

 or to help those who had to arrive later catch the vision of reading the instructions, and just doing what it said rather than trying to rewrite the book according to their own preference or experience...

Agreeing to follow the book gave them all security and unity.

And produced a glorious meal!

Then we enjoyed the literal fruit of their labor.  Blackberries!

It took longer than they thought for the cobbler to cook, but they were patient.  And it was worth waiting for.  Rather than whining about how long it was taking, they played games and had a blast.



1So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. 32Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks or the church of God— 33even as I try to please everyone in every way. For I am not seeking my own good but the good of many, so that they may be saved.

Between us all, we represented the following cultural heritage or dwellings:  Swedish, Northwest, Southern, Mexican, Native American, Japanese, Chinese, Hawaiian, "Heinz 57 American", urban, rural, big family, small family, home school, public school, international school, adopted, natural born, working mom, stay at home mom and on and on it goes with the variety.

It was AWESOME!!!  Thank you,  (listed in no particular order) Kevin, Janey, Tatsi, Corina, Joshua, Esty, Davis, Laina.   My kitchen has never been so blessed!

1So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

That's the bottom line, 'nough said.

---

...you know what?

It's like this.  I'd like for this blog to mean something.  I'd like to put decorating tips on this blog.  Occasional - very rare - recipes (because, oh my goodness, anyone who knows me well KNOWS that cooking in NOT my thing.)

Even I can cook panini zuccini!  Thin slice uniformly and press!

This was lunch... English muffin with deli ham, sprinkled with crab and shredded cheese made a yummy summer lunch.

I'd like to LIVE INSPIRED!

I'd like to paint interchangeable signs for my kitchen that I can sell to others once I rotate out for a fresh phrase.

I'd like to PAINT.  PAINT. PAINT. PAINT!!!!

This couple is about to celebrate their first anniversary!

I'd like to have someone mentor me into debt free living and blog/share it as I go.

I'd like to turn my house totally upside down... and let every piece of clutter not glued down by our love or true use of it fall out and bless others who could use it.

Watch me turn this corner into my art studio! SO excited.  Rich and I are trading spaces.  That'll give us our own zones.  We've somehow ended up overlapping each other.  This separation of zones will give us a great "divide and conquer" where we both win!

I'd like to have someone mentor me into good health - eating, exercise - and take on my family's fluky allergies and needs.  Yeah - that's called a personal trainer, but I don't have that luxury.

I'd like to keep blogging through I Corinthians. 

I'd like to finish something.

I'd like to finish the book about elder care my mom and I started.

I'd like to finish our house!  Not in the sense that we'd never change it, but honestly, we've lived there ten years and I still haven't finished painting the miles and miles of trim!

I'd like to paint fashion that lets women have the freedom to be modestly fashion forward. 

I'd like for my fashion paintings to be produced (because GOD REALLY KNOWS that sewing is not my thing either)  and have the proceeds help my kids through college and also help pull victims of human trafficking off the street and into a healthy fulfilled life like the one I dream of for my own children.

I'd like to dream out loud so that, maybe, someone can find themselves set free to dream... and then go out and DO it!

I'd like to celebrate the success of others without being jealous.  Think of it!  My joy would double!!!

I'd like to live so out in the open that I don't worry if someone steals my dream and does it successfully because I know there's an infinite source of "more where that came from" for me!  (God knows the plans he has for ME and if spurring someone on why planting a dream in their hearts is part of it, that in no way means His dreams for me will be unfulfilled or robbed.)

I'd like to figure out how to be disciplined in a global creative sort of way.  (I'd love to get my ducks in a row, but here's the thing... I'm not a duck.  I think maybe I'm a robin.  You never see their babies walking in a row.)

I'd like to blog about being a mom and a wife. 

I'd like to blog about fresh, fresh, fresh design ideas.

I'd like to meet people... Mandissa (to thank her), Oscar de la Renta (to bless him), Toby Mac (to pray over his children),  Michael W. Smith (to affirm and thank him for his long obedience in the same direction.)


I'd like to share my life out loud. But there's fear.  It would open me up to criticism.  It would open me up to unwanted advice.  It would open me up to competition I never signed up for.  It would open me up to others wanting to use me/my ideas for their own profit. 

But it would also open me up to bigger dreams.  It would open me up to my future. 

It would open me up.

I think opening up might be a really, really good thing.

I'd like to be a wide open clear conduit for Jesus to bless others in tangible, healing, freeing, joy-giving ways.

What more could I possibly ask for?