Last night Ivy brought home artwork – a portrait of the family. You can probably guess each person. The baby has a mouth full of teeth. Phoebe is happy. Ivy dominates the picture. Megan looks a little dazed (“Mom is tired”) and yes, the crazy one is me. I mentioned that I look a little angry. “No, you are just frustrated about work.”
“Frustrated?”I definitely get frustrated about all sorts of things. From bills, to the house in Augusta, to cars… and, yes, my work. But I would not say frustration defines me… But through Ivy’s eyes I am frustrated. And as I list all the things I am frustrated about… maybe she is right.
This is not the picture I want my daughter to have of her dad. I want her to picture the times we are laughing, playing, telling stories… not me with spike teeth.
My struggle is an issue of control. I want to maneuver each aspect of life. But life is not easily manipulated. It does not flow, people do not move, the way I desire. And so I am left frustrated. But I can not allow this to define me. I must let go and trust the movement of God. The flow and flood of His river will move life forward.
I am sure Ivy could draw other portraits of me – ones without the charlie brown squiggle mouth. But I hate that part of life’s art is frustration.
What does you life’s portrait look like – are you happy with the aspects you are painting?