Life as scratch art

designing lives that reveal the foundations of who we really are

I was on the porch praying this past Thursday morning with concerns for my world, country, church, and circle flowing through me, and finding it hard to locate peace and trust. Sometimes this morning conversation between me and the Lord ends up with a kind of unwieldy litany of need, which is never the best posture… so to interrupt that needy flow, I asked God, out loud with a sigh:

“Lord, what would you have me know today?”

The answer was immediate.

photo by Megan, Pinterest

First, I felt the Holy Spirit smile within my spirit, and communicate something like, “I am so glad you asked!” That He didn’t end the sentence with an exasperated “finally!” was an expression of His kindness, but what followed in my mind’s eye was a picture of an art project from my elementary school days. It was ‘scratch art,’ where you cover a piece of cardstock with crayon, layer over it with a mixture of black paint and dish soap and then scratch out a design into the cardstock by removing the black paint with a dowel or, in my case, an unwound paper clip.

Now, this is not the kind of image I could have construed on my own, so I sat with it in meditation as a gift from the Holy Spirit, and within a few minutes found it an unlikely wellspring of divine wisdom and leading. God is so kind to give a gift of a metaphor to me, his symbol-loving daughter, but before I describe my meditation to you, I want to express that this was several hours before we knew we had a pope. That morning, I had been very nervous about which direction the cardinals might choose, and I wanted desperately for the leadership of the global Church to maintain a moral voice that represented the mercy and kindness of Jesus. I wanted a successor of Francis to continue in his work and to help us remember our Gospel call, especially in this time of moral vacuum, division and hate at times wearing the clothes of religion. I did not yet know how utterly thrilled and consoled, and honestly, relieved, that I would be with the choice of Cardinal Robert Prevost, and how happy I would be to welcome Pope Leo to lead our Church. The day was early, and I was still on the porch.

The production of scratch art requires three steps – the crayon, the paint, and the scratching. Each is critical to making a unique expression of art. In my late elementary school days, I remember enjoying the process of making art at school, but frequently being disappointed in the result. Often, it seemed that most of the girls in my class would decide in advance about the direction of their art pieces, and so their finished projects would tend to look very much the same. As I was on the outside of those social groups and, in addition, lacked their materials (why did it seem that everyone but me in the 1980s had fluorescent crayons?!), my projects always seemed to fall short. I had missed the memo on what the collective had decided, and so my unique offering (and by association, me) always seemed to lack something in the end. It was a perfect training ground for the INFJ, proud enneagram four I would later become.

In this time when a substantial part of the ‘collective’ here in the American Church are choosing worldly power and overlooking our Gospel call to love one another, I often feel alone or lonely in the making of my faith and life in the direction in which God is leading me personally. It feels disorienting to hear demonstrably false things being spouted day after day by people who profess the same faith as me. Yet in this meditation on scratch art, God is reminding me (and maybe you) of a few things.

We are each making our own art. If you’re alive, you have the privilege of making something unique and purposeful with what the poet Mary Oliver calls your one wild and precious life. Conformity is never the goal here in life school – we want to make the truest, most beautiful expression we can while we’re here in class.

The crayon part of the art represents our underlying beliefs and values. Each color and shape we choose matters, and all will one day be revealed; no, not what we say we believe or value, but what our words and actions expose at the heart of us. As Jesus said, “For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open.” (Luke 8:17)

The darkness that covers us comes to every piece of art, every human life in history. Each of us will experience challenge, hurt, and pain, and we will all suffer moments in which that darkness will feel all-encompassing and even overwhelming. That’s a universal truth, and just a part of how the art of a human life is made over time.

As we intentionally scratch out the design of our lives, and choose what is revealed through us, we have the opportunity to process and to remove darkness to reveal the good, true and beautiful that lies within. So, in this class of the school of life, what will we choose to make? What will people see reflected in our lives when they look at us? When it comes to our faith, will people find a loving God portrayed in how we live? How much are we concerned with making something of our lives that looks just like everyone else? Can we instead focus on bringing out the most authentic beauty possible in each of our projects?

And, finally, can we keep our eyes on the Teacher and His instructions, and care less about what our classmates say is best? Can I? When we’re intentional to do this, there’s an inherent freedom in the choice, and we’ll find that the most authentic, beautiful and helpful things will ultimately rise to the surface. As we produce the unique picture of our lives, let it be an image that adds to the good story we’re trying to tell, and while we’re doing it, let’s keep our eyes on the Teacher (and on our own papers.)

There was an Instagram reel that came through my feed this week that brought immediate tears of recognition in my spirit. It’s the end of The Muppet Movie, when the show they’d lovingly created containing all their experiences, and all of their sets come crashing down, only to allow a real, vivid rainbow to come streaming in. Their careful plans had been wrecked, and yet all the Muppets gathered in community and awe of the light that broke into the mess. It’s a truly profound and beautiful reflection, and meaningful in a way that only art made for children can be. In the same way, our plans might be derailed, things might come crashing down, and sparks may fly, but if we leave space for the divine light to come in, we’ll become co-workers with God to make the most beautiful lives possible in any age.

Our class time is short, friend, so let’s be sure of our foundations, keep our eye to the sky, be prepared to pivot, and use our time and materials in the best and most authentic way possible, letting the divine shine through us. In this hurting world, let’s make something beautiful for all to see.

Raised Catholic rewind:

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What I’m recommending this week:

Song: Make Your Own Kind of Music, by Cass Elliot

Video: Muppet Movie - closing song

Prayer:

Oh God we thank you for the gift of Pope Francis, and of Pope Leo. Let their lives be an example for us in how to intentionally live more vibrant, truer, Gospel-centered lives in this age. For us and our dear ones, and all leaders we pray in the name of Jesus and wrapped in the mantle of our Mother Mary, amen.