More often than not, I find myself needing to be reminded that I am not the God of my life. Vexed and plagued by the imperfection of being human, I often imagine the day that we will be made clean, washed free of the crust of sin that right now holds us to this earth, and given our true name. However, until that day, I’m doing my best to remember that it will be God who will bring us through; God, who sometimes presents Himself in a whisper, and at other times, draws us to Himself through a whirlwind.
There is something about a whirlwind that draws me to repeatedly paint tornadoes and other swirling vortexes. There is something so intrinsically terrifying about a force so much bigger than I am, replete with all my imperfections. Yet, it is a comfort to look back on my history and see God’s presence within many of the whirlwinds in life, and to see and remember the times He drew me out of them, even when I was absolutely unaware of His presence. I chose this painting because it is of a tornado bearing down on a tree, but also because it is unfinished, and has remained so for the past few months because of whirlwind of other tasks that have taken precedence over its completion. But I leave it out on a table as a reminder that even in its unfinished nature, you can see glimpses of what is to come.