JR Woodward :: Blog :: The Canvas

Jesus Christ, The Great High Priest- VerseVisions Art
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For the past two weeks I have been in intensive classes with my cohort at Fuller Theological Seminary.  In this second week, each of us get the chance to share about what has been happening in our lives as well as what we have been learning in this particular degree program.  When you are in a cohort of this nature, it is easy to look around and see how large everyone is, which in turn can effect your self-image.  The following poem was written by a guy in our class who exudes the aroma of Christ.  When he read it to our class this week, I was deeply moved.  I asked him if I could share it with you and he gave me permission, if I kept his name anonymous.  So here is the poem.  After you read it, if you have some time, let me know what you think about it.

THE CANVAS
The canvas is blank, it’s right there before me,
I’ve got colors and brushes galore,
And when I stare at the canvas it stares back at me,
Just waiting for me to explore.

But there’s something inside me that brings me great fear,
That won’t allow me to paint or to dream,
‘Cause I worry that the outcome of my strokes over time,
Won’t be as good as the others I’ve seen.

So I stare at the canvas with tears in my eyes,
And I slowly paint one little section,
But the rest of the canvas remains free of life,
Because I only see my imperfection.

So Father, I beg you, as I go through today,
And the next chance to paint I pursue,
I ask you for courage to use all these brushes,
As I color the canvas for you.

I have this strange feeling that as the painting ensues,
And the reds, blues, and greens start to splatter,
I’ll come to see that when my eyes are on Jesus,
Comparing my painting won’t matter.

‘Cause at the end of my life, when the painting is finished,
I just know that my Jesus will love it,
‘Cause both the painter and canvas are washed in his blood,
And it’s that grace, not great art, that I covet.

- Anonymous