For example, in the picture I've included here, there's the old trapper riding across a mountain stream, leading his packhorse behind him. But there's more.
Look again at the rocks in the stream. And at the evergreen branches above the trapper's horse. Do you see the Native American faces? (Click here for a larger size.)
Her paintings often make a connection between the natural world and the spirit world. Though her art isn't focused on Christ (you'd probably call it animistic), it still reminds me of something I've learned about Jesus.
When I look back at the rocky, painful times in my life, I've begun to see Christ there. When I revisit the scenes where I felt most alone, or most defeated, or most rejected, I now believe He was quietly present. Then He seemed a million miles away.
Then I didn't understand why He did not prevent me from stumbling or remove me from the trial or stop the pain. Now I see that, in His wisdom and compassion, nothing came into my life that He did not first measure and screen and regulate. He allowed only that which would serve His glory and ultimately my good.
The truth is, through no merit of my own, I've always been His and He's always been with me. Long before I knew Him, He was there. My own memories are not always pleasant. I bear the scars of my own failures and sins, plus the wounding that comes from the failures and sins of others. But when I look carefully, into those dark times when I thought morning would never come, He's there. His face is lit with kindness and love, and I remember that He carries scars, too.
