The Real Timeline of a Masterpiece

My husband and I ducked into the Victoria and Albert Museum on a rainy day in London recently. A line wound around the lobby for a Chanel fashion exhibition, but we slipped past and headed upstairs to find the two things we were looking for.

In our laundry room hangs a print of The Way Wain by John Constable (1821). I found it at a garage sale 15 years ago and grabbed it without knowing the painting or artist. I’ve grown to love it exponentially more as I’ve read about John Constable and his work in the years since.

At the Victoria and Albert hangs not the final Hay Wain, but his original to-scale draft that he completed before painting the actual piece, a glimpse of the hours of work he put in leading up to the final masterpiece.

In a befittingly cozy passageway nearby hung several Beatrix Potter originals, paintings that my children and I have seen so often in our well-loved copies of Peter Rabbit, Mrs. Tittlemouse, Jeremy Fisher, and the whole bunch. But what I loved most of all were the early sketches.

I purchased a print of a pencil sketch of Mother Rabbit and her children to hang at home beside a copy of the real thing seen in The Tale of Peter Rabbit, a little reminder that in our house there’s a lot of praying, thinking, planning, and messing up on the way to the finished product. Masterpieces are the final point on the timeline of practice, perseverance, and diligence.

On Corrie’s Street

One recent evening, my husband and I walked up the cobblestone street to Corrie ten Boom’s house in the Netherlands, a dream come true. Having read “The Hiding Place” countless times, all the WWII visions played before my eyes – Corrie peddling off past curfew to deliver a message for the Resistance, Corrie and her father walking arm-in-arm for their daily stroll through town, and even Nazi soldiers banging down doors. So much happened here.

As we reached the house, a vision I had not anticipated played before my eyes – five women creating a TikTok dance video (hip thrusts, etc) right there beside Corrie’s front door.

Surely they had no idea that not that long ago a man knocked here, desperately pleading for help from Corrie when in fact he was a traitor luring her family into a trap.

Behind the dancing ladies, no doubt inadvertently featured in their video, was the side door where Corrie, all her siblings, and their elderly father were marched out later that evening by soldiers. They were prodded down the alley, all headed for prison and concentration camps. The girls now shrieked with laughter as they messed up and had to start over.

And directly above, three floors up in Corrie’s house, six people she was hiding had stood cramped and claustrophobic in a secret closet that night. Soldiers ransacked the home searching for hours but they remained undetected for three days, finally slipping out that same alley door.

We stood to the side, hoping to grab a picture of the house when they were through dancing, but these were determined women and we came back for our picture the next day.

Knowing what I do about the Ten Boom family, I’m guessing they would have had some kind word for the gyrating group of girls, pointing them to the love they seemed to be craving. They probably would have invited them in for soup.

The Ten Booms passed on the flame of Christ's love everywhere they went, even the very darkest places. It was an honor and joy to be in their home, stand in their rooms and hear their stories. Hopefully I can tell you more sometime.

Where Joy Really Is

Life rapidly shifted in the course of 12 months. A move took me from an exciting job in a New York City high-rise, full of events and autonomy and visible deliverables, to this… this living room floor hundreds of miles away. 

I sat there with my two babies in the dated rental house. The next big event on my calendar was nap time.

I had chosen this career change and, truly, felt intense gratitude for the chance to be home with our children, but that didn’t exempt me from bouts of loneliness and exhaustion that come with the job. And what felt like so little to show for all my exertion!

But then, right there on the floor, something hit me. “God, if in your presence is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11), then joy can be here, even in this.”  True, deep, exhilarating joy! It felt like a revelation. Joy was not dependent on my circumstance, but on the Lord’s presence. Incredible.

Changing Diapers? Playing peek-a-boo? Washing dishes? Be my vision, Lord. Captivate me with your work all around me, that I might not be captive to others' approval or validation.

In the end, it’s joy I’m really after, what we’re all after, and it’s right here with You. 

It was a gift to write A Liturgy for Unseen Labor for the new Every Moment Holy III based on old journal entries and notes jotted down during those formative years.

The full prayer, along with prayers by many others, can be found here. I think you will really love the book.

An excerpt:

Nothing is unknown to you, Lord, and you know

that my labors often go unrecognized.

At times, this has disheartened me.

Yet this I believe: to work is a valuable gift.

You’ve placed me here with an opportunity

to tend these tasks for your glory

and for the good of your children.

May I not be blind to the beauty before me.

Be thou my vision, Lord.

For in your sight the task at hand becomes an act of worship. 

Holy Spirit, meet me in this work 

with the power of your presence, for in your 

presence is the fullness of joy.

Yes, there may be joy here also, even in this.

How much of your work, O God, is 

unnoticed? How often do I neglect to thank you?

Indeed, the world revolves around your unseen acts. 

Yet despite our lack of acknowledgement, you 

are constant in care and unceasing in service. 

May I humbly follow this pattern.

As I go about my work today, 

give me eyes to see you at work in the world.

Establish the work of my 

hands, not for my name but for yours, 

that these labors might bring 

blessing from trial,

peace from chaos,

justice from abuse,

and beauty from its lack.

I give you my work as an offering. Do with it as you will.

For my deepest satisfaction comes not from 

being seen by others, but from being 

profoundly and forever seen 

and known by you.