Author Archives: Pam Teschner

Creativity: Artist-in-Residence

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Children are born creators. They dance and play in the open field of their vivid imaginations. So, what shrinks our aging souls and stifles this playful expression? What imprisons the spirit that was born to revel in creativity?
For me, it’s primarily fear. I’ve dabbled in watercolors and sketching for many years but have struggled with the proverbial block both in my art and in my writing. I have amassed tools, equipment and books and enjoy arranging them around me in great admiration. But at the same time, I’m intimated by it and hesitant to put the brush to the paper for fear of making a mistake or creating something less than breath taking and less than perfect.
Last year, my creative journey took a turn. In September, I watched Anneli Anderson create a painting during a time of worship at Camp Elkanah. Her description of the process and her journey as an artist pushed back the curtain for me. This is what she shared:
“My paradigm changed from ‘I create to find acceptance and value for what I am able to produce’ to ‘I create because I am loved, and there is nothing I can produce to be more loved, accepted, or valued than I already am through Christ.’ I now have a new freedom, through that assurance, to experiment with color and more thoroughly enjoy the creative process! It has become like prayer for me….I submit my gifts to the Lord for the glory of His name and to be a blessing to those around me.” http://www.studioanneli.com/about-anneli/
That night my paradigm began to shift as well. Because of His great love and great grace, I am fully accepted as I am in Christ Jesus. He has uniquely gifted me and made me to be a conduit of His love and grace. I am not made to create admirable perfection but to capture and express the beauty of His touch upon the world and upon my soul…for His glory and praise. In that, it is an act of worship.
I have an Artist-in-Residence, Creativity Himself, – living, thinking, feeling, imagining and creating – in my soul. He is at my right hand as I pencil lines and words, as I touch a brush loaded with paint to the paper, mix ingredients for the next scone recipe and find a solution to a problem.
He calls us to dance in rhythm with the pulse of His creativity. Sometimes it wells up until the mind and heart are overwhelmed by an impulse to express it. Then the song flows, colors blend, words touch the soul and a solution works.
There is no mystery to the creative process…no secret ingredient in the soup. Simply place the first mark on the page, write the first sentence, make the first cut in the wood or the first stitch in the fabric…then another and another. Make mistakes, learn and grow. Throw away what you don’t like. It doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be.

Michelangelo said,

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

What imprisons your creative heart? Fear, perfectionism, guilt, intimidation of a blank screen, an empty staff sheet, lump of clay, block of wood, bolts of fabric, handfuls of seeds or a store full of ingredients? Let God chisel away the stone that restricts and confines His expression through you. He will expand your heart with joy and set it free!

 I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free.  Psalm 119:32

 Run, sing, dance…create!

The Greatest Courage

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The greatest courage and deepest faith of humanity

Endures the slow disintegration of the body and the slipping away of independence.

It looks into the eyes of death and begins to see the brilliance of glory.

It stretches a foot over the chasm afraid to let go of here but yearning for there.

It groans as it struggles to escape the deteriorating confines of flesh.

It pains through the stripping away of the body as the soul emerges to unimaginable joy.

It reaches one last time to grasp the hand of God as He lifts His faithful into paradise.

Everest

For all of us who watch them reach the summit…may we be grace givers unto the end.

Bandon Rocks

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I’m dwarfed at the base of a towering pinnacle of stone rising from the sand on the coastline near Bandon. It seems top heavy, and I wonder how much more lies beneath my feet. Other massive rocks jut up next to it creating unique towers of stone left as the shoreline eroded away and exposed these great monoliths.
I climbed into a crevice between two great slabs of rock and looked up at a small ribbon of blue sky high above. In the cleft of these rocks, the wind is reduced to a breeze but the roar of the ocean seems to echo off the close walls.
My mind wanders to the story of a cleft in the rock on the top of Mt.Sinai. Moses could not bear the thought of taking one step into the wilderness without Jehovah and pleaded with Him to show him His glory. The Eternal God met Moses on the mountain, placed him in a cleft of the rock and covered him with His hand. Then God passed by proclaiming His great name in magnificent splendor.
And he passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Exodus 34:6-7a
I can’t even begin to imagine what Moses experienced behind the hand of God in the shelter of the rock. It must have shaken from the thunder of the unutterable name of Jehovah. Overwhelmed by the splendor of the Almighty, Moses fell down in worship and cried out for forgiveness.
How can I possibly conceive of the blinding glory of God’s compassion, grace, patience, love, faithfulness and forgiveness all avalanching together in a moment? Moses must have felt on the edge of disintegration. This same God wants to show Himself to me everyday.
He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love him and show myself to him. John 14:21b
Christ proclaims His compassion and faithfulness every morning. He speaks grace and forgiveness into every moment of my day. And He sings His unfailing love over my soul. If, even for moment, I could feel the power of that Voice and see His receding glory, I would be undone.
Oh, God, I cannot imagine going through life without You. If You were not at my side, how could I walk through this wilderness? Forgive my casual regard for Your Presence, and give me a greater sense of Your nearness. I want the hungry desperation for your Presence that Moses had and his boldness to beg for it. Oh, Lord, show me Your glory and grant me grace to bear it.

An Old Sitka

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Sitka Center for Art & Ecology at Cascade Head on the Oregon Coast
Class: “Writing the Image, Drawing the Text”
Instructor: Sarah Rabkin
August 22, 2012
My assignment was to wander around outside taking pictures with an imaginary camera. A small empty frame of an old 35 mm slide was my viewfinder and my brain provided a couple gigs of memory. After my photo shoot, I was to head back to the studio and sketch and write what resonated the most in my mind.
Off I went in search of something grand and broad and profound. I wanted a tiny framed glimpse of an ocean too wide to comprehend and too deep to plumb. I held the little frame close to my eye seeking the perfect panorama.
Along the way to the vista, I passed a great Sitka Spruce and its sweet spicy fragrance stopped me in my tracks. I breathed in the aroma, and it sank into the deep crevices of my soul. The breeze through its great boughs whispered a soothing peace over my heart. The sight and sounds and fragrance of the spruce washed over me. I approached the towering ancient and held a fleshy palm to the rough mosaic of its grey bark. I was dwarfed next to the giant. For more decades than I have drawn breath, the old Sitka has stood watch over the Pacific from Cascade Head.
Something quietly settling carried me away, and I found grandeur in two cones hanging together, one above the other, from a branch twirled with stiff blue green needles. The sunlight illuminated the right side of the cones creating a rich reddish brown glow. Each wavy scale was bright and warm against the darker center of the cone. I held the viewfinder to my eye, framed the cones and took a mental picture.
I search for majesty is the greatest broadest places, and rush past the splendor hidden away in the small cones of the Sitka Spruce. The Creator puts His majesty in the smallest cone, the single spruce needle and in the sighs of its boughs as the breeze stirs its branches. And so, God has placed His majesty in the smallest detail of my life. Nothing escapes His notice and His care. Nothing is plain and mundane when God inhabits it.

And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Matthew 10:30

Absolutely Never

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Blessed are they whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord will never count against him.                     Romans 4:7, 8
Over 2,000 years ago, Jesus Christ poured out His life and died to erase every single sin that I would ever commit in my short span of earth life. Then one day in 1960, He called me to Himself and my young faith wrapped around His forgiveness. He placed His seal of ownership on my soul and deposited His endless righteousness into my eternal account. I stood on little legs of faith before His throne just as if I lived His perfect life and never sinned at all—because Jesus was punished for my sins just as if He committed them all.
The record of my sin has been cleared and wiped clean with the cleansing agent of the blood of Christ. He does not keep a sin score or tally them and remind me, “Well, that’s the 873rd time today.” Nor is He disappointed when I stumble again and yet again. Instead, He sings over me with joy all day every day.
He has never left my side even when the days were dark and I lost sight of Him. I am fully persuaded that nothing today or tomorrow or anything I do or don’t do will ever separate me from Him.
On that day in 1960, all my sin was removed from the account of my soul and the Lord will never…not ever…will absolutely never count any of them against me. Not even those I will commit between today and my final day of breath. I am forever forgiven. And when I finally get to see Him face to face, He will sing me a song of welcome home.
Oh, what grace. What overwhelming and undoing grace! I am Yours…forever Yours.
The words “it was credited to him” were written not for him [Abraham] alone, but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness—for us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead.He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification.                                                                             Romans 4:23-25
 

Afire

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Oh Lord, who have I but You? You are the beat of my heart and the fire in my soul. Blaze up within me! Set my heart ablaze with love for you and love for my brothers and sisters. Let not these words be but flourishes of prose, but let them be the honest and naked passion of my soul.
Oh Lord and Master, you are my life and my very breath. When the fire on the altar of my heart grows small, bring seraphs to my heart and touch me with a blazing coal from the altar of heaven. Purify me and set me, once more, ablaze with love.
Oh Lord Jesus, help me to say…if all else falls away, if I were completely alone…You are enough. My fingers hesitate and hover over the keys afraid and tentative. So, I whisper with weak faith…You are enough. Deepen my faith and devotion.
Oh Father, give me an undivided heart wholly devoted to You. You are the aching throb of my soul. Fill me with your goodness and your love. I am Yours. Do with me as you will.