I painted a picture for my sister the other day. It was one she requested: strawberries and leaves and crisp wording. My perfectionist self was not happy with everything about the picture. I could point out a dozen different faults. But when we stopped painting and ate lunch, I realized that from across the room the painting was OK. Stepping back made the problems look smaller. I experimented a bit, taking steps backward and forward to find the optimal distance at which to view my creation. I discovered I needed to be a little more than an arm’s length away for the painting to look its best.
It wasn’t until a day or so later I started thinking about the greater implications of my painting discovery.
So many troublesome moments in life find me scrutinizing things painstakingly. I focus on every little detail, deeming them hopeless and ugly. What happens when I step away and step back? What happens when I take myself out of the picture and view it from afar? Well, with me out of the way, the picture improves dramatically. It may still not be perfect, but it begins to look more hopeful.
My ideas, my opinions, my way of doing things are so easily attached to the things I face in life that I often can’t look at something without seeing how those ideals are not being lived up to. Removing myself takes my eyes off the details and places focus on the over-arching theme. It’s easier to see how God is working, to understand there is more unity than I thought—or maybe even that I was the one causing the disunity.
The painting I was working on needed to be out of arm’s reach to look its best. Many times in life, we need to surrender things that we have controlled to God, step back, and let Him actually have them. Surrendering our painting doesn’t mean we still stand next to it and keep making suggestions about which brush to use or colors to mix. It means moving away and waiting on Him to make the next stroke with the brush. My son, give me thine heart, and let thine eyes observe my ways. (Proverbs 23:26)
This principle holds true for our
views of those around us. It’s easy to hone in on the things we don’t like
about others. It’s not hard to point a finger at something in their lives we
don’t approve of. Within our close-knit communities, we stand so close to one
another that it takes effort to step back and glimpse someone from a different
perspective.
I’m not suggesting that we ignore blatant sin. I am talking about paying keen attention to the mote in someone else’s eye while overlooking the beam in my own. I’m looking at how God works in different areas of each of our lives, sanctifying our greatest needs in His time. Just because God has revealed to me the unbelief in my own life, for example, that doesn’t mean I suddenly have the expertise to diagnose the unbelief in the lives of those around me.
When I step back and gaze on my church family from afar, I don’t know that I have ever been disheartened. I see humans, yes, that stumble and make mistakes and need sanctification. But I also see a people with their hearts turned toward the Living God. A group of individuals with a united purpose, set on reaching Heaven. Of course everything isn’t perfect, but I’ve taken my own expectations out of the way. I’ve stepped back and surrendered the brush. I can finally observe the ways God is preparing His bride.
And it’s beautiful.
This, then, is what I want to practice in days to come: Letting go of my ideas, stepping back, taking me out of the picture, surrendering the brush. It’s not that I think this will be an easy thing to practice. I do believe it will help me not to get bogged down with unnecessary cares or overburdened with perceived negativities. It’s learning to step back and live in the pause that happens when someone faces a medical scare and you forget for a few moments all the reasons you struggled to love them. It’s keeping your opinions out of politics because you realize you don’t have to hold the brush in order for God to paint the picture. It’s understanding that the glaring mistakes are almost invisible when you remove your self—your own pride—from the story.
So here is to painting your life story. Here is to being willing to step back and let God hold the brush. Here is overlooking the little things that don’t matter in the long run. And finally, here is to doing it joyfully, watching in awe as our Father works out the details.
