“My word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” Isaiah 55:11
She comes from a long line of art lovers.
Her Daddy, Mama, and Grandmother are each artists in their own right.
She loves to draw and it is the form of communication where she is most at ease. I’ve learned much about her from studying those drawings. Sketchbook after sketchbook filled with telling information. She has aptly named them journals. Every week since she was in about the 3rd grade we have attended weekly Bible Study. Since we began, our Bible Study journey our Bible Study day looks a tad different.
It starts on the Tuesday night before with “Set Up” and finishes on Wednesday evening as I collapse into a jello-like heap on the sofa. Wednesday night supper is always referred to as “Brain dead food” because I am so brain-dead I can not even think clearly sometimes. Studying the King’s Word in-depth has been real good medicine in my life and I am thankful that it is readily available for me and my Modern Day Bethany Three.
But, I ain’t even gonna lie, there have been times I’ve wondered if any of them even absorb anything. If the days of “doing their homework” isn’t just a check off on the day to avoid the wrath of Mama and teacher and going to the aforementioned Bible Study isn’t just a time to see their friends. Recently, after a social skills inspired game of Apples to Apples I instituted mandatory quiet time. Charlotte positioned herself into our sunroom. When she emerged she had independently completed a most complicated adult Bible Study lesson. Evidently she was able to recall the answer to a question I had about a particular something from a previous week, and in answering had begun to draw what in her mind’s eye was the answer.
I was in awe of the detail. The special Priestly Garments, even when we studied it, the details amazed me, perhaps it is because I don’t always see the details. A few weeks prior, we studied the covering of the priest, his role and all that surrounded his duties. We noted how all of that was a word picture of what was to come and we Martins decided we were glad we were living in the time of Grace, the time after Messiah. When we no longer needed “ginger cows” aka a red heifer to be purified.
We giggled when we thought about how Daddy would look dressed as a Priest or how mad I might be if I weren’t one and couldn’t talk to God directly. We rolled when we decided Shelton wouldn’t so much mind the smell of it all and how gross so many of the duties were. We’d concluded Shelton could in fact, be the only one of us that could’ve carried out the duties without losing his sacrificial blessed lunch.
The conversations we’ve had as a result of studying together are some of my most treasured, that I’ve tucked away in my mama heart. None of which we would’ve had if we weren’t studying the same thing. I love that in her illustration, Charlotte made light of a dreadful situation, that despite the obvious presence in the desert and the constant whining of the Israelites, there was still joy and silliness she found. I’ve said often, throughout that year’s Journey from the Red Sea to the Jordan River, that I totally can identify with Moses and even the Lord. I know what it’s like to make a trip with a bunch of ungrateful, whiny kids, and I can sympathize. The Martin 3 usually look at me blankly and don’t say anything.
Truth is I’m one of the whiniest ones and no doubt the King thinks the same about me. It is to Him I am thankful for opening the door of His Word for us Martins, for easing the trip through the desert place, for giving me glimpses into how He works in the life of the Martins, and for the reminder that He concerns Himself with the details.