Yes, that right there is my coffee cup. Treasured.
Surrounded by chalk-dust.
And instead of it being a full-up mug of hot java,
It was today, our INSPIRATION.
The boys laughed at me,
because I refused to put marshmallows in my drawing.
I said that my drawing was one of my favorite drinks: coffee.
And you just can't toss marshies into coffee.
Of course, their imaginations were full of sugary treats,
fluffy marshmallows, and chocolately cocoa.
They drew with delighted abandon.
I will admit,
However, since I've had children?
I'm ashamed to admit, I just feel overwhelmed getting out the art supplies
with them. Their little excited grabby hands and inability to keep
their sleeves in the right places...the paint brushes flinging everywhere...
the stains! Oh, the stains.
It drives my mother heart a little bit into a pandemic.
And that's EXACTLY why I need art in our days.
I stumbled upon a great book,
A Simple Start in Chalk Pastels.
(available over here, at Hodgepodge)
And as I paged through this neat little E-book,
and their neat little website full of INSPIRATION,
I decided: art is not optional.
Art is necessary for our souls.
I felt it, as we gathered up our materials--felt the soul sing.
We shared my tiny college-box of soft chalk pastels.
(who woulda thought--back when I bought these...that all these little hands
I had brought into the world would be holding them one day with glee?)
I looked up at Quinn,
who was brimming ear to ear, his tongue hanging out in his classic think-mode,
pastels smudged across his face.
He looked like a chimney sweep straight outta Mary Poppins.
And then Gabe, who is meticulous and hates to get his hands dirty--
he was putting finishing touches on his perfect drink of choice on a cold day:
a peppermint hot cocoa.
Our little souls were as warm as our mugs.
Then came the REAL therapy: the cleanup.
Would you know, that I left an old rag at the bathroom sink
for my guys to clean up their messy hands with...
They used my brand new towel, instead?
The light green one??
That my little chimney sweep
wiped himself clean as a whistle?
A light green towel smudged with ...stains....
Therapy for a momma's heart, to embrace mess
and exchange perfection
for laughter and joy and memories.
And we all know--
Ecover stain stick got that stain right out.
Quinn's sweatshirt though...that thing will never be the same!
And to think.
I am already looking forward to next week's art gathering,
together at our dining room table.
I think we are going to draw mountains.
There's a verse I am working on:
"I tell you the truth. If you have faith and do not doubt,
not only can you do what was done to the fig tree,
but also you can say to this mountain, 'Go, throw yourself
into the sea,' and it will be done."
Art therapy. For the soul.
Gabe was so inspired, that he spent his entire quiet time
working on a piece in colored pencil.
He told me that he drew it in honor of the book we just finished
during our evening read-aloud time: Mountain Born.
A book describing the life of a shepherd,
to help us understand what the Bible means when it describes
Jesus as the "Good Shepherd."
Art is highly infectious!
Planted in the soul by the Great Artist Himself.