God's work of art

Yesterday, at a meeting for religious vocations personnel, we were each given this image as part of the opening prayer. And as I gazed at it, reflecting on being God's work of art, I also wondered, with an inward chuckle, what kind or piece of artwork I might be... There are certainly days when I feel as limp and languid as Salvador Dali's Persistence of Memory, as messy and spattered as a Jackson Pollock, or sharply Cubist. I occasionally echo the serenity of the Mona Lisa, and - thank God! - very occasionally life is such that I resemble Munch's Scream. Mostly, though, I suspect I am something kind-of Impressionist: freely brushed, not blended smoothly; all colours and contours, clarity and blurs, and a play of light; realistic, immediate, everyday, varied.

You are God's work of art... But what did God create, and what does God see? And the answer came, gently but firmly: a masterpiece. God sees far beyond what is blemished and broken; far deeper than externals. God gazes on me with infinite love and joy, and a Creator's pride, and sees nothing less than a masterpiece...

At the end of the day we were encouraged to send the image to someone, with an uplifting, encouraging message. Remind them they're God's beloved, we were told; assure them you walk with them... And so I hope that whoever sees this post can feel God's enraptured gaze, and truly know and  believe that they are God's work of art, his most amazing masterpiece...


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