Day 509: The Master’s Piece

{This post is from yesterday… sorry, I had it 97% finished but just couldn’t get it published until today. And even then, it took me all day today to just finish up the last few lines. Ha! What can I say? It’s summertime?!?!}

I’ve always thought that God created some of us to be great artists, and some of us he created to be appreciators of great art.

I… am an appreciator.

I always wanted to be musical, or able to draw or paint beautifully, or sculpt, or take amazing photography… but it is just not in the stars for me (unless you count the excessive iPhone pics that I take of myself, my hubs, and my kids. If you follow my instagram, you have to know that I have to straight-up hold. myself. back. from posting 8 gillion pictures a day… I try to keep it to one or two!)

So, while I cannot necessarily create a masterpiece, I sure as heck can appreciate one.

Unless… it’s myself.

I know right?!?!? Backwards.

But you know, yesterday, we were listening to the latest version of a song my father-in-law is about to release on iTunes, and we all got to dancing. I thought it would be cool to video us dancing so he could see how it immediately made his grandkids just want to move! Well, my husband took the phone from me and videoed me dancing around with the boys some, and wellllllll, as I’m watching the video later with my boys, my oldest (ya know, the sweet precious one that helped me face my sin on Day 506: Childish Conviction) covers up my belly rolls on the screen with his hand quite seriously and says “I don’t really want to see that.”

I looked at him and, quite seriously, said, “Yeah. Me either.”

But then I was looking at my belly rolls later that evening (which I was quite poorly hiding… bad choice of capri and top combo) and I thought of how Jesus must have looked down at the wounds in his hands for that month or so that he was going around after coming back to life. I’m sure to the normal eye they would have looked horrible… disgusting… hideous.

And to him, every time he saw them, he could remember the sin. Not his sin… mine. OR he could see the FREEDOM that those nail holes represented. He could see the SALVATION represented in those holes.

Those holes were… a masterpiece… showing God’s love for all of us.

Just like his nail holes my rolls can either remind me of my sin of gluttony, OR it can remind me that God has brought me on a journey away from gluttony and food lust. It can remind me that I am free of all of the things of this world. That belly roll reminds me a bit of where I’ve been and a bit of where I’m going.

And I’m not gonna lie… maybe it was a good thing for Jesus to have those holes. So that as people saw him they were confronted immediately with their sin and its effects. Just like I think it’s a good thing right now for me to have a little reminder of what the sin of gluttony will get me.

But either way, you see, I am a masterpiece… a masterpiece of God’s love. a masterpiece of newness. a masterpiece that has some work to do.

POSITIVITY: I am a masterpiece.

I am God’s masterpiece. He has created me anew in Christ Jesus, so I can do the good things he planned for me long ago. Ephesians 2:10


God, {sigh} I am just daily blown away by your unending love and faithfulness. How you can look at me and think “What a beautiful masterpiece” somedays… it’s beyond me. But you are so good. so loving. so hopeful. And it’s just so cool that you have created me, and made me new, SO I can do stuff for you.

I feel so excited knowing that I am part of some plan… part of Your purpose. Just walking around or looking in the mirror I can tell myself that I am your masterpiece. that I have been made to do work for you. that my life is an expression of you.

Wow. That last one gives me goosebumps.

I am an expression of You.

Yeah. That’s amazingly rad.

Thank You God. Thank you for making me. for believing in me. for crafting every bit of me and my life with purpose.

Show me how I can serve you God. Lead me further into my masterpiece.


{Annnnnd this is me, “jamming out”
on my air guitar with my kids.
I’m not entirely sure what the
facial expression is all about though.}


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