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Being His Poetry; His Masterpiece

Photo by Joseph Morris on Unsplash

There we were, over 150 women divided in to small groups designed for conversation and connection.  We came to be heard, to listen, to share, and celebrate each other. The night’s topic, based on Ephesians 2:10, was about being God’s Masterpiece.

After looking at different biblical translations and the trusty Thesaurus; we learned that we were: handiwork, workmanship, poetry, treasure, custom-made, God’s creation, a showpiece… a masterpiece.  Did all of us believe it? No.

No, life has a way of tricking us to consider something different from what God says about us. This is especially true if our hopes and dreams don’t go according to plan. As we sat there, we were encouraged to embrace and say the following:

  • I am loved
  • I am valuable
  • I was made for a purpose

We were told that we were created in well thought-out detail. Our design was to display the heart of the artist. We were provoked to think on how we can be on display for God.

Yet, as I grappled with the weight of such statements, I was struck with this coinciding truth: The masterpiece doesn’t give itself its value. A work of art deemed a masterpiece depends on the reputation of the artist, and those willing to agree that yes, it truly is a great work of art. This then begs the question; is a work of art a masterpiece if it is hidden away in some dark corner?

Personally, these thoughts are sifted with others that center on not being gainfully employed for over two years. These are then encased in ideas about why I’ve experienced other extended times of unemployment as well. Let us not forget how all these thoughts then mingle and hang out with reflections regarding aging, debt, and damaged credit scores.

So, how does this showpiece named Cherise stay focused on the fact of the Word rather on the truth of her feelings? Waiting on what you believe God has in store can be very difficult when what you read as His promises are not what you experience as His provision.

Much of what bounces around inside my head these days are attempts to reconcile my desire to live a life of meaning with the reality that much of my daily life appears to be meaningless. Yes, I try to motivate myself by saying I am merely being re-purposed for something new. But that then brings up the question: Why did God decide to wait until I was in my mid 50’s to rearrange my life, and when is the relaunch already?

As I sat in the small group of five, I confessed that I am okay viewing myself as loved, valuable, and as a woman of purpose. I’m even okay with seeing myself as one of God’s works of art. Yet, this masterpiece is not on display. No, this masterpiece has yet to find the right gallery in which to hang. I confessed feeling as if this masterpiece is sitting in some basement corner collecting dust.

So, what to do? I suppose I should do what the message on the black and white piece in the picture above suggests and, “Trust (my) journey.” It’s true, I don’t get it. I don’t understand why I have had five jobs in 22 months; one lasting only a day. I really don’t have an answer for the alarming number of promising interviews that went absolutely nowhere. No, I don’t get it at all! Yet, I’m still here… trusting.

Despite questioning the why of my current situation and life; I’ve decided to keep breathing. Amidst tears and rants toward Heaven; I’m still here… breathing. Often shrugging my shoulders, scratching my head, and interacting with tightly pursed lips; I’m still here… trusting. All the while wondering if my desire for relaunch is really a futile attempt to bring meaning to what otherwise looks pretty meaningless.

And what is meaning anyway? And why is it so important? For me, meaning gives meat to purpose. Meaning is found in the day-to-day activities that help our purpose make sense and come alive. Each day is a part of our journey and with each day we either move closer to or further away from purpose. My choosing to host Hekima or make posts that encourage authenticity, are my stabs at living in a meaningful way.

So, is poetry, poetry if no one reads it? The answer is yes. What makes poetry, poetry is the rhythm and symbolism. Poetry embodies and evokes emotion in ways that are different from prose and drama. Much of poetry is up to the interpretation of the hearer, as much as it relies on the communication skills of the creator and speaker. Poetry is an expression of the writer’s heart and thoughts.

So, this masterpiece, without a gallery to call her own, is still a masterpiece. With or without income, I must reconcile once and for all, I am a custom-made treasure. I’m poetry in motion; a song, though hummed and unsung; I am a showpiece. Why? Because my Creator and a cloud of witnesses says so.

Click here to enjoy Tori Kelly’s song, Masterpiece!

3 thoughts on “Being His Poetry; His Masterpiece”

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