I started working on a piece that was supposed to be centered around the Church's struggle against the forces which would see it perish. A visual representation of all that detracts from our faith, worship, life in community, and belief system closing in on a powerless and ever shrinking church. Weakness. Smallness. Powerlessness.
At least, that was my intent.
As I have found time and time again, the Holy Spirit has a way of messing with us. As I began to put some color on this thing, it kept looking, well, not negative. It felt powerful. It felt optimistic. As much as I tried to get my point across, it wasn't gonna happen. Another point was being made.
Resistance. Faith. Hope. Strength. That tiny little church began to push back the mountains and offer a sense of hope and sure ground. That tiny little church began to look a bit like the Israelites passing confidently along the seafloor with towering waves in every direction. It began to look like everything I love about the Church.
I like that better than my idea, anyway.
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