Hello friends, here we are in August. This month, I want to share with you a piece that is deeply personal to me and centers on some spiritual themes. I should also let you know that it touches on the topic of grief. I understand if you need to skip this one, but for those of you who stay to read it all, thank you for hearing my story. I am deeply honoured.
In March 2019, I attended a retreat at Carmel Hill, Little Flower Monastery. It was my first time participating in a three-day silent retreat as well as being at a Catholic monastery. My spiritual director (aka, friend and companion who month after month directs my attention to where God is present in my life) was part of leading the retreat and it wasn’t too far to get to, so I decided to try it out. I had invited some friends to join me and it was comforting to have their presence even though we spent most of the time in solitude and silence.
In the monastery, at the front of the chapel, was a box with a sculptural cover featuring five loaves and two fishes, along with five stalks of wheat. I later learned that this box was called an aumbry and that it contained specially reserved communion elements. During my time there, I kept coming back to the chapel and gazing at the box. The roughness of the cover and simplicity of the iconography touched me. It symbolized the sacred elements contained inside the box while representing the story of Jesus feeding 5,000 with a modest meal.
On a personal level, at the beginning of 2019, I had chosen the word Enough to focus on throughout the year. Sitting in that chapel and soaking in this unknown artist’s work, the word Enough resonated even deeper. This image and the story it recalled kept affirming to me that God could make what little I had enough. Unbeknownst to me, a week later, I would be by my dad’s deathbed and that word and image would sustain me through some of the hardest moments for the year ahead.
For over a year, I wanted to create my own rendition of that sculptural image. Then, in 2020, for my birthday, that’s what I did. I took a thrift store print that I never really liked and painted over top of it a version of this image for my room. It hangs by my bed as a visual reminder of God’s providence, not only in that really difficult year after my dad’s death (and subsequent pandemic), but also in my present life.
One of my deepest fears is that I don’t have or do enough; or that I am not enough. As an artist in this economy, I’m often visited by doubts of whether I’m good enough, if I’m hustling enough, or if I will be able to sell enough to provide for my family. The thoughts of “not enough”ness are pervasive. And perhaps they are exacerbated by our consumerist culture that benefits from our insecurities. But if I look at the message of Jesus and the life he lived, it tells me a different story: I am enough, there is enough, and God makes it enough. Always.
Questions for reflection, if you want to go deeper: What jumps out at you about this image? What is your heart’s response to the words, “You are enough”‘? In what areas of your life do you fear not enough-ness? How can you step into the truth that with God, it’s always enough?
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As always, I love to hear from you! If something in this story resonated with you, if you’re interested in commissioning a painting, or if you have other thoughts, feel free to email, or connect with me.